The Coward and the Beast
by dragonkeeper19600
Summary: One winter's night, a princess committed a grave insult. As punishment, she was transformed into a beast. To change back, she must earn the love of another. But, who would fall in love with a beast? Certainly not a coward of a man who falls to pieces at the mere idea of a monster. A Luigi-based retelling of the tale as old as time.
1. A Beastly Tale

**The Coward and the Beast**

 _Once upon a time in a faraway land, a young princess lived in a shining castle._

 _Although she had everything her heart desired, the princess was spoiled, selfish, and unkind._

 _One winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered her a single rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold._

 _Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the princess sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away._

 _But, the beggar warned her not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within._

 _And when she dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress._

 _The princess tried to apologize, but it was too late, for the enchantress had seen that there was no love in her heart._

 _As punishment, she transformed her into a hideous beast and placed a terrible spell on the castle and all who lived there._

 _Ashamed of her monstrous form, the beast concealed herself inside her castle with a magic mirror as her only window to the outside world._

 _The rose the enchantress had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom for a hundred years._

 _If the beast could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken._

 _If not, she would be doomed to remain a beast for all time._

 _As the long years passed, she fell into despair and lost all hope._

 _For who could ever learn to love a beast?_

* * *

 **Chapter One: A Beastly Tale**

"Mama, is he here yet?"

Mrs. Morel sighed as her son's mushroom-capped head bobbed over the rim of the counter. "No, not yet," she said. "Don't wiggle so."

If anything, the wiggling only increased. "Is he here now?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"Todd, please! You need to be patient!"

Todd stood on his tiptoes, straining to reach the glass stand of the cake holder. It scraped across the wood as the tiny fingers probed. "When's he gonna get here? We've been waiting _all day!"_

Mrs. Morel calmly swept the cake holder out of Todd's reach, causing the boy to stifle a groan. "We've only been here for an hour. Don't be so dramatic. There's no rush." She stole a glance at the clock on the wall even as the words were leaving her mouth. As much as her son's restlessness grated on her nerves, she sympathized. She, too, would much rather be outside at her post at the market, shouting out thanks and prices over the din of the shoppers as the sunlight fell over the vegetables, dyeing them a brighter color. And, if her son were outside, he would have the streets to romp and roam in and would be too busy and happy to bombard her with ceaseless questions.

But, she knew that the thing they were waiting for was more than worth it.

"Hey, Mama, maybe he's on his way right now! If we go outside, we could meet him halfway!"

Mrs. Morel was more cunning than that. "Or, maybe he'll come to the house while we're out, and we'll miss him entirely!"

Todd's eyes popped. Only now did he realize the scope of their predicament.

Mercifully, at that point, there was a knock on the door.

"He's here!" Todd threw himself down from the stool, causing the legs to scrape loudly across the wood floor, and bolted to the front door. Mrs. Morel only barely caught up before the boy threw it open.

" _Buon pomerrigio!"_ The man on the doorstep moved his head out from behind the enormous package in his arms so Mrs. Morel could see his smile. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

"Of course not, Mr. Mario! Please come in!"

Mario stepped inside as Mrs. Morel shut the door. Todd buzzed at his waist like a bee.

"Is that it? Is it heavy? How much does it weigh?"

Mario laughed. "Probably more than you, little one!"

Todd was delighted with this answer. "More than me? Really!"

Mrs. Morel held out a sack of coins as Mario slid the package onto the counter. A bundle of cloth was wrapped around something solid, bound in place by several thick cords. Mario pocketed the coins as Todd climbed back onto the stool and began tugging at the ropes.

"Todd, stop that! Let him do it!" Mrs. Morel smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. He's just been so excited. He's been asking if it was ready every day."

"Well, I hope we don't disappoint!" Mario climbed up onto a stool himself and buried his gloved hands in the folds of the cloth. Normally, Mrs. Morel would chafe at the sight of a guest standing on her furniture, but as the ropes and fabric fell at the machine's feet, she was as mesmerized as her son.

Standing on the counter was a beautifully painted sculpture of a castle. The towers and walls of the top half gleamed white under the pointed, gold roofs, while the bottom half was tinged with a cool blue. A wobbling grid of brighter waves was painted over the blue, creating an effect whose likeness could be seen on the surface of a fountain as the sunlight streamed to the stony bottom. Sculpted into the base of the castle was a line of sand, with green fronds reaching softly up over the castle's base. It looked as though the castle was deep in the center of an invisible sea.

Mario grinned at the awed reaction from mother and son and produced a small, silver key from the pocket of his coat. He quickly moved around the counter to the back of the castle. "You might want to stand back," he advised.

Mrs. Morel pulled Todd's stool back. Mario inserted the key into the small slot hidden amidst the sea grass. As soon as the key clicked into place, the walls of the castle flew open. The interior was divided into two floors along the waterline. The blue lower half contained a scene of watery caves and blooming anemone. The top half looked to be a golden ballroom. A man in royal dress stood alone on the top half, his outstretched arms empty. Hidden amongst the reeds far below his feet was a woman with a long fishlike tail. Her painted eyes were turned upward.

Mario turned the key in the back. The clicking of gears whispered as the figures inside began to move. A soft, sad melody played as the mermaid ticked and swam along the bottom, the stand holding her up masked by the swaying plants and colorful fish that wiggled by her. Once she reached the other side, she disappeared around a corner and reappeared in the ballroom, her dainty feet barely visible underneath a beautiful gown. She twirled gracefully in the prince's arms as he spun to keep his eyes on her. But, too soon, the clicking mechanisms carried her away from his gaze. She twirled away from his admiring gaze and disappeared behind a pillar. Soon, the mermaid appeared again below, gazing longingly up at a prince who couldn't see her.

Todd's eyes sparkled as he watched. "Can I go inside?" he asked his mother.

Even Mrs. Morel couldn't stop herself from laughing. "I'm afraid you're far too big to fit in there!" said Mario.

"It's beautiful!" Mrs. Morel exclaimed. "My husband will be so thrilled to finally see it!"

"I'm glad to hear you say that! It wasn't easy to get it in the carriage!" said Mario, working a crick in his shoulder.

"You must be so proud. Not many men have the talent to make something like this."

Mario blinked then shook his head. "Oh, signora, you're mistaken. I am proud, but I just sell the works. I don't make them."

"Huh?" Mrs. Morel stared as Todd poked the clockwork fish. "Then who does?"

* * *

Luigi kept his head down as he moved through the crowded market.

Several vendors called out to him as he passed in tones both friendly and accusatory, offering him all manner of foods, flowers, jewelry, and animals, but Luigi kept his gaze on the cobbled pathway ahead of him. Pant legs, the heels of boots, and the hems of skirts crossed in front of his view, but no faces. Every soliciting word that reached his ears just made his steps quicker.

A Koopa looked up from his stand and saw the mustached man hurrying through without sparing a glance to anyone.

"Hey, see that guy over there?"

"Hmm?" the Paratroopa fluttered over the goods laid out in front of him, his tone uninterested.

"He looks kind of shady to me. I wonder if he's up to something."

The Paratroopa finally lifted his head and followed the Koopa's gaze.

"Oh, that's just that clockmaker," he said. "Trust me. That guy's harmless."

"Are you sure?" the Koppa asked as Luigi disappeared into the crowd. "'Cause he's in a mighty big hurry, and it looks like he's carrying something. I hope he didn't steal it."

The Paratroopa snorted. "He's no thief. He'd need half a spine for that."

Luigi was moving too fast to hear this conversation, but its contents wouldn't have surprised him. He darted through the crowd as though being pursued, only raising his voice to mumble quick apologies to whoever he happened to bump into. A few others stared or glanced at him in annoyance as he knocked into them, but most people paid him no mind at all as he reached the library at the end of the street and disappeared inside.

A bright, unfamiliar face appeared in his field of vision as soon as the bell above the door chimed.

"Welcome, sir!" said the Toad before him. "Can I help you find anything?"

Luigi startled. He wasn't expected to see someone unfamiliar here. "Sorry, I, um, I'm just looking around."

The Toad smiled kindly. "No worries. Just let me know if you need any help." Her gaze moved to the book clutched against Luigi's chest. "Oh, do you need to return that?"

Luigi lowered his eyes, embarrassed, though over what, the Toad had no idea. "Yes. I'm sorry." He sheepishly held the book out to her.

The Toad took the book and glanced over the cover. _"The Little Mermaid,"_ she read. "That's a good one! What was your favorite part?"

Inexplicably, a look of panic came over Luigi's features. "Uh…" he stalled, "I liked all of it."

The Toad giggled. Behind her, a blue Toad behind the counter looked over with a dismayed expression. "All of it, huh? I guess you really liked it! Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

"No. I mean, I don't know. I'd just like to look."

"That's fine! Take your time!"

Luigi stepped quickly away from the Toad and headed over to the fantasy section. The furtiveness of his movements made it seem as though he was fleeing.

As soon as Luigi's back was turned, the blue Toad stepped up to her and touched her arm.

"Toadiko," he said, "Don't ask him stuff like that."

"Huh?"

"Stuff like, 'What's his favorite part.' Don't ask him that. He didn't say anything, but it bugs him."

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"He can't read."

Toadiko's eyes widened. "What?"

"He comes here all the time, but he can barely read a word. He just likes to look at the pictures."

Toadiko flushed with embarrassment. "Oh my goodness, I had no idea!"

The blue Toad shook his head. "It's not your fault, by boogity! You just started working here. But, for future reference…"

"Of course, of course!"

Luigi made a show of sticking his nose deep in a book and turning the pages as noisily as he could, trying to give them the courtesy of believing he couldn't hear them. In truth, he felt his cheeks warm. That the librarian's words were compassionate instead of mocking did little to soften the blow. His blue eyes wearily moved over the printed script on the yellow pages, taking in the loops and points for only a moment before flicking back over to the illustration on the other side.

A tall, valiant knight rode upon a white steed, its hooves raised and its mane rippling. Snarling at the horse's feet was a long, serpentine dragon, its green body coiled like a spring. A spear was held stiffly in the knight's outstretched arm, the head plunged into the dragon's back. A thick plume of blood spurted from the wound, and the dragon's mouth was open in a hideous snarl.

Luigi shuddered and slid the book back onto the shelf. He pulled out another and flipped through several pages of indecipherable text before he came to this first picture.

Unlike the painted illustrations of the last book, the image on the page before him was done in pencil. It depicted a young girl holding an ugly soldier doll in her arms. There was a bandage wrapped around the dolls head. The gray etchings that comprised the girl and her toy made the drawing look busy yet detailed.

Luigi curiously flipped forward a few more pages. On the page was another ugly doll in a baby's crib. The doll's huge round eyes above its bared teeth were fixed on an enormous rat that sat at the foot of the crib. On the rat's head was a crown.

Luigi flipped forward again. The book opened on two drawings back to back. In the first, the ugly doll in the crib was in the midst of transforming into a beautiful, crowned girl. The artist had drawn each intermediate stage of the doll's transformation in fainter pencil. Here was the doll slightly taller and thinner, here it was with longer hair and smaller eyes, here the seams below its mouth were gone. A morph that had perhaps lasted only a moment lay dissected for the viewer. On the opposite page was a similar time lapse of a boy turning into another doll. The same doll, Luigi realized, that the girl in the first picture had held in her lap. Before his shocked expression stood a fainter outline of a shorter version of himself with a rounder head. Here, his eyes swelled, here a beard grew, now he was only knee height with hideous bared teeth.

Luigi stared, fascinated. What story could result in such things? Children twisting and untwisting into grotesque forms? The sunlight in the window turned orange as he stood in that spot, flipping back and forth between the different drawings, his mind churning.

It was that same book that was placed in front of the librarian. He adjusted his glasses as he looked at the cover.

" _The Nutcracker,"_ he read. "Good choice."

He made a note while Luigi waited. "Due for renewal in a week," he said, sliding it back.

"Take care!" Toadiko called as Luigi hurried out the door.

The vendors were closing their stalls as Luigi walked back through the market, his pace much slower than before. The sketches in _The Nutcracker_ were mesmerizing, though he couldn't fully make sense of it, try as he might. He flipped back to the end of the book to see the girl, now a grown woman, smiling serenely down at a man who was dressed the same as her ugly doll. So, he had managed to change back after all? What had done it? Luigi knew he would never be able to do more than guess.

Luigi was so entranced he forgot to be on alert.

Abruptly, the top of Luigi's boot collided with a bony ankle. Luigi sprawled face-first onto the street, sending the book flying, as a loud, raucous laugh wheezed above his head.

"You better watch where you're going, Luigi! You wouldn't want to hurt yourself!"

Luigi lifted his head, cringing. Not just from the impact but from the voice, which was now chortling at its own wit. He didn't have to turn and look to know it was Waluigi looming over him and smirking. He realized, with a pang of shame, that he might have been able to see him coming if he hadn't been so absorbed in the book.

The book. Luigi saw it lying face down just ahead of him, its pages bent between the street and the cover. Quickly as he could manage, Luigi tried to scramble to his feet.

"If you'll excuse me…" he muttered, "I'm in a hurry…"

A foot came down on his pant leg, sending him sprawling again. "Oh, really?" said Waluigi. "Seems to me like you have plenty of free time." He reached over and plucked the book off the street, holding the front cover between two fingers. There was a slight tearing sound that made Luigi's blood run cold.

Luigi pulled himself upright as Waluigi held the book out in front of him. "Say, Luigi, what's this book called?" he said with a sneer.

Luigi felt himself abruptly put on the spot. _"The Nutcracker,"_ he said nervously.

"Uh huh," said Waluigi, "And what's it about?"

"It's… It's about a boy who turns into a doll."

Luigi knew as soon as he saw the delighted look on Waluigi's face that he'd gotten it wrong. "A doll?" he exclaimed. "Don't you know what a nutcracker is? I knew you couldn't read; I didn't know you were stupid, too!"

The warm sensation Luigi had felt on his cheeks in the library had now spread all throughout his shoulders and back. There weren't many people left in the street, but he was sure all of their eyes were on him. He stretched out a hand, though he knew it was no use and said, "Please, give it back."

"Sure, you can have it back," said Waluigi, "if you beg me for it!"

Luigi tried to make himself look Waluigi in the eye, but he couldn't do it. His eyes dropped back down to the cobblestone. "May I please have my book back?"

Waluigi clicked his tongue in a show of mock disappointment. "Come one, Luigi, you can do better than that!" he said. "Say, 'O, great Waluigi, I beg you to do me the kindness of returning that book to me, though I am but a worm and unworthy!"

"Now, now, Waluigi, you can't expect my brother to say something that stupid with a straight face."

Waluigi frowned and Luigi felt a wash of relief as Mario approached, smiling ruefully. "Really, don't you have anything better to do than make a nuisance of yourself?"

Waluigi crossed his long arms, book still in hand, as Mario took his place beside Luigi. "What's this? Can't I do anything without you making wild accusations? I was just saying hello to Luigi."

"No, you weren't," said Mario flatly.

"Mario, he has my book," Luigi said quietly.

"I saw that," Mario said. Waluigi, who towered over both brothers, stretched to his full height and held the book aloft in one hand. "Fine, I took it. But, I'm not sure what you can do about it from all the way down there!"

Mario effortlessly jumped up, snatched the book from Waluigi's hands, and casually handed it back to Luigi.

"Here you go."

"Thanks, bro."

"Hey!" Waluigi fumed. "Don't ignore me!"

Mario looked over his shoulder at Waluigi with a contemptuous smile. "Oh, you're still here? If you just wanted to say hello, then you should be done by now."

"I feel sorry for you, Mario, I really do," said Waluigi. "It can't be easy to constantly play bodyguard to this weakling. What's poor Luigi going to do when you're not around?"

"That'll never happen," said Mario simply. Luigi said nothing. He was torn. It comforted him to know that Mario would stay by his side, but to always be the one being protected was…

"You don't know that for sure," said Waluigi. "A lot of strange things can happen, especially to travelers. If you're not careful, one of these days, you could be snatched up by the beast."

Mario rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he said.

"You only scoff because you've never seen it!" said Waluigi with relish, "The beast is a huge, fanged monster with scales as hard as iron and claws as sharp as steel. Anyone who strays into its path ends up dead!"

Mario snorted. "It'll take more than some campfire story to scare us! Right, Luigi…?"

Mario knew as soon as he saw the look on Luigi's face that he'd spoken too soon. Luigi's eyes were wide, and his jaw was firmly set. He knew it was a mistake, but he couldn't stop shaking.

Waluigi smirk became somehow even more wicked. "You ever seen a wild animal eat its prey?" he said. "I have. They start with the belly first. They tear into the soft, bouncy skin to get to the juicy meat underneath." Waluigi poked Luigi's stomach. Luigi jumped behind Mario's glare. "No matter how many men the king sent to slay it, the beast tore into all his knights just like that. Belly first. What a mess. And then it ate the king, too."

The air was filled with the sound of Luigi's teeth chattering. "The beast lives in the forest. Your portly brother travels quite a bit, doesn't he? You'd better tell him to watch out. I'll bet the beast has never had a feast quite like him!" Waluigi chuckled at his own cleverness. "And once it's through, it'll decide it likes the taste so much that it has to have more. So, it'll come looking for you!"

Luigi whimpered and clutched his book tightly over his stomach, as if it were a shield. Mario shot the hardest glare he could muster at Waluigi. "What's wrong with you? You must be sick or something!" He placed a hand on Luigi's shoulder and turned him away.

Luigi could still hear Waluigi's laughter as Mario marched him away. "Don't fret, Luigi!" he called after them. "Maybe you'll get lucky, and it'll swallow you whole! Then, I'll cut you out!"

Luigi was still shaking even as Waluigi's voice faded into the distance. "Why do you let him do that to you?" said Mario. "You know it's what he wants."

Luigi lowered his head. He didn't need to be reminded. "I'm sorry," he said.

Mario sighed. "You need to learn to stand up for yourself, bro. The only reason Waluigi treats you like that is because you let him get away with it!"

Mario glanced from the street ahead to the look on Luigi's face. He smiled gently. "Hey," he said, nudging Luigi's shoulder, "don't worry about him. He's not worth listening to."

"I know," said Luigi. The words sounded as though he were reciting them before a teacher. Yes, sir. No, sir.

"Listen," said Mario, "The butcher had fresh ground beef today! How would you feel about spaghetti and meatballs?"

Luigi managed a smile. "I'd like that," he said.

* * *

The whisk had already circled the rim of the bowl, and the kitchen smelled of garlic as Mario scooped a palm of beef into his wet hands. His fingers curved gently even as they darted around the softness in his hands, molding it into shape. Luigi had once drawn those hands in the midst of that motion. Frozen in time in pencil, the hands appeared to be hiding a warm egg or even the chick itself, all yellow softness and tiny sounds.

As the meatballs appeared one by one on the tray, Mario heard a distant tinkling coming from the back room. Mario smiled fondly. He was familiar with his brother's work habits.

In the studio, Luigi bent over his desk as the woman in the music box turned behind him. It was one of Luigi's favorite pieces, and he never find it in his heart to cell it. It was much simpler than the bigger contraptions his wealthier clients ordered. It depicted a woman with long hair spinning slowly in place. All around her were the long petals of a flower, opening and closing like fingers. As the song played, the woman was hidden from view, only to be revealed again as the petals opened. The image had come from a book the librarian had called "Thumbelina." Luigi had no idea what thumbs had to do with women in flowers, but he felt too embarrassed to ask.

The nutcracker book was open in front of him. Small jars of paint pinned down the fluttering pages to expose the drawing of the girl holding her nutcracker to the lantern light. Luigi's pencil moved quickly over the paper pinned below the book, copying the lines and forms of the book's drawing. Once the girl and toy had emerged, he drew them again below, this time from a side view. Then he drew the girl standing up. Facing the back, facing the front, holding her arms out, her skirt caught in the whirl of her motion. He flipped back and forth through the book, looking for different poses, and when he couldn't find one, he rifled through the flurry of loose papers on his desk, looking for his old drawings. From this mosaic of pencil marks, the shape of the girl emerged as a single unified being.

The pencil was still moving when the studio door opened, letting in the warm smell from the kitchen that had already flowed through the rest of the house.

A pouch of coins clattered onto the desk. Luigi started slightly and glanced over at Mario.

"Here. From the sale today."

Luigi pulled the pouched closer and slid the coins out onto the wood with his fingers.

"I didn't interrupt, did I?" Mario asked.

"No," said Luigi, his eyes still on the coins, "It's fine."

Mario reached over to the lamp on Luigi's desk and twisted the knob. The dark orange orb around Luigi became brighter. "Geez, bro, you could at least turn up the light in here. You'll go blind if you keep squinting in the dark."

Luigi looked up, alarmed. "Is that really true?"

Mario shrugged. "I don't know. Mama always seemed pretty convinced, though."

Mario gently shifted the papers on Luigi's desk, peering at the drawings of the nutcracker girl. Meanwhile, Luigi clinked the last few coins into his hand. He frowned.

"Hey, Mario? Did those people pay us extra?"

"No," said Mario, "they gave us the amount we asked for."

Luigi took a small handful of coins and slide them over the desk to Mario. "You gave me too many."

Mario didn't touch them. "Now, Luigi-"

"Fifty-fifty. That's what we agreed on."

"Luigi, you're the artist! You deserve a bigger cut!"

Luigi shook his head firmly. "We wouldn't be able to sell anything without you, bro."

"I'm not so sure about that." Mario pulled up a chair next to his brother. "The customer today really wanted to meet you. She seemed disappointed that the artist wasn't in her house."

Luigi said nothing. "You ought to come with me when I'm making a delivery sometime. Shake some hands. They'd love it!"

Luigi picked up his pencil. "I'd just get in the way," he said. "I'm not good in situations like that."

"Luigi…" Mario sighed. "You do good work. Really good work. Nobody in town can make the kind of things you can. But, I really feel like there's for than being cooped up in a dusty workshop for the rest of your life."

"It's not dusty," said Luigi indignantly. "I always keep everything in order."

"That's not the point! Dusty or not it's a single room, and that one isn't much for conversation." Mario nodded over at the woman in the music box, who had long since grown still, the petals at attention around her. Luigi cast his eyes down, discomfited.

"Let me ask you something. What do you do when I'm out travelling?"

"I work."

"What else?"

"I watch the house."

"Is that really it?"

Luigi kept his eyes on the pencil lines in front of him. "That's enough to keep me busy," he said.

Mario exhaled. "Luigi, can you do me a favor?"

Luigi looked up at his brother, puzzled.

"When I leave tomorrow, try and do something. Go somewhere fun. Talk to someone. Cut loose somewhere."

Luigi grimaced. "I don't know if I can do that."

"Sure you can! Everyone can! You'll be glad you did it."

Luigi fidgeted uncomfortably. Mario smiled encouragingly. "Come on. Can you at least try? For me?"

Luigi sighed. "Alright. I'll try."

Mario clapped Luigi on the shoulder. "It'll be good for you. I promise."

"Mario…"

"Yeah, bro?"

"Is something burning?"

Mario jolted to his feet. "Shoot!" he exclaimed. In less than a moment, Luigi heard frantic clattering in the kitchen. Luigi turned back to the sketches littering his desk, posed in the shadows of the yellow light. "Somewhere fun…" he murmured.

* * *

The dawn air was chilly as Luigi passed an unwieldy package into Mario's arms. Mario grunted as the weight sank into him.

"You sure there's not an actual royal court in here?" he said through his teeth.

"Just try not to drop it," said Luigi.

Mario gingerly lowered the package onto the carriage floor, though it landed with a heavier _thunk_ than Luigi would've liked. Mario swung his feet over the back and landed on the gravel in front of the house. "Is that the last of it?" he asked.

"Just one more," answered Luigi. He picked up a small clock from the blanket he'd laid out behind him. The face of the clock was a moon over a blue, wooden pond. When the minute hand struck the hour, the small, misshapen duckling disappeared, and a beautiful swan flowered below in its place. Mario took the clock from Luigi's hands.

"I wish they were all this size," Mario said. He carefully stowed it into the carriage.

"Good luck," said Luigi.

Mario grinned. "Why are you wishing me luck? You made everything. I ought to be wishing you luck!"

"I don't mean just with the fair," Luigi admitted. "I always worry when you go through the woods. I just want you to be careful."

Mario frowned. "You're still thinking about what Waluigi said."

"I know you said the beast doesn't exist! But, even if it doesn't, the woods are full of monsters, aren't they? If anything happened to you-"

" _Luigi,"_ Mario admonished as he stepped around to the front of the carriage, Luigi anxiously following, "I've been through the forest tons of times. The monsters are no big deal if you know how to handle them. Besides, if I went around the woods, the fair would be over by the time I arrived in town." Mario pulled himself up into the driver's seat. The brown mare pawed indifferently at the presence of an unfamiliar driver.

"Then maybe you should've left sooner," said Luigi.

Mario waved off his brother's concern. "I can take care of myself. Waluigi's worse than any monster in that forest. The monsters aren't nearly as annoying."

Luigi smiled weakly. Mario clicked his tongue, and the carriage began to roll slowly forward.

" _Addio!_ And, remember what you promised!" Mario called.

"Be safe!" Luigi waved. His hand dropped, and he sighed. "I will," he said.

* * *

 **AN:**

 _I know I'm not the first person to do this. Heck, I found another BatB Mario fan fic when I was clicking randomly around Archive of Our Own. However, I do feel like I might be the first person to do this with a female character in the "Beast" role._

 _This is quite a far cry from "Mario and the Music Box," isn't it? But, even here, Mario can't get away from music boxes. I'm sorry, Mario. I blame Kevin Kline._

 _The best telling of_ The Nutcracker _I've ever personally encountered was, of all things, the Eyewitness Books version of the story. It was a picture book that also functioned as a historical learning tool for children. It included vignettes and facts about German society, culture, and technology in the time the story takes place, as well as these fantastically beautiful watercolor illustrations. I rented that thing so many times from the library at my elementary school. Ballet is nice and all, but no production has stuck with me the way that book has._

 _There wasn't really any way to convey this in text, but the Enchantress at the beginning is actually Rosalina. You can't tell! If I could draw, I would draw this a comic, and then you could see her. On a similar note, the blue librarian Toad is actually Toadbert. I couldn't come up with a smooth way to namedrop him, but I feel like the catchphrase might have given him away._

 _Disney's_ Beauty and the Beast _is probably the runner up for the film I've seen the most times in my life._ (The Brave Little Toaster _is first, obviously.) As such, I was able to type the opening prologue basically from memory. I did check the actual recording once to correct a few words, but for the most part, I was pretty accurate. Some people could be saddened by that ability, but I choose to be proud of it._

 _Bleh, I've already typed too much. I hope you all have as much fun reading this as I did writing it! Ciao!_


	2. Petals on the Floor

**Chapter Two: Petals on the Floor**

Mario tilted the bowl forward, scraping the last chunks of potatoes and carrots with the spoon in his other hand. The wooden spoon clattering against the cavern of clay made a pleasant, hollow sound.

"Are you sure I can't tempt you to stay the night, sir?" the innkeeper asked.

Mario swallowed and wiped his mustache with the back of his wrist. "Oh, I wish I could, but I have to be off. I can't afford to sleep until I reach the next stop."

The innkeeper's face under her orange-spotted cap showed a look of what seemed to be genuine concern. "But, sir, it'll be dark soon. The forest at night is a treacherous place. Please stay, for my own peace of mind if nothing else!"

The sky did glow orange above the black tree line out the window, and the fire blooming under the still fragrant pot was warm and welcoming, but Mario still shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I've been through these woods many times. I'm much more afraid of being late than anything that lives out there." Mario dug in the pocket of his coat as he said these last few words, and soon a sack of coins was in his hand.

Mario held out a small handful of gold for the innkeeper to take, but he opened his hand too quickly, and a single coin fell past her palms to the wooden floor. As soon as the coin clinked against the boards, a pair of yellow eyes lifted from two tables away, though the face in which they were set barely moved. These eyes saw the glinting coin roll to a stop and rattle like a cymbal on its side before taking in the white, gloved hand that pinched the small disk between its fingers. The eyes then moved to the still bulging sack as it moved back into Mario's coat and narrowed.

"Sorry about that," said Mario. He tipped his hat and made for the door.

The innkeeper stood framed in the warmly glowing doorway as Mario made for the waiting carriage. "Thank you, sir!" she called. "Be careful out there!"

Mario nodded and waved over his shoulder. Broom in hand, the innkeeper made her way back inside, which she was surprised to discover now had two fewer occupants.

"Huh? Now, where did that green gentleman go?"

As Mario climbed into the driver's seat, he didn't notice the shadow slipping into the back of the carriage. Perhaps the mare noticed the extra weight, but she gave no sign as she plodded dully away from the cozy inn.

The sun was already out of sight, but Mario could see the effect of its swift plummet past the unseen horizon as the forest became rapidly dyed in shades of red, then purple, then blue, as though each hue were being poured over the trunks and branches in rapid succession. The breeze that rushed by Mario's face was as quick and cool as a river.

Mario shivered and pressed the back of his fingers to the lantern mounted on the side of the carriage. The warmth was small, but Mario felt it radiate outward through his whole body. The glow summoned the shape and color of the road and branches out of the darkness, while paradoxically making the shadows themselves blacker and sharper.

Just as Mario lifted his hand away, he felt a small tap on the tip of his nose. He reached up to flick it away, thinking it to be the feet of some insect, when he felt another on his ear. Tiny spatters began to sound on the roof of the carriage, and an unmistakable hiss soon filled the branches above.

"Oh no." Mario wearily looked up. Above the firelit underside of the leaves and branches was not a field of stars but a solid iron-gray haze. The clouds had waited insidiously for the sun to disappear before moving into position above the forest, and now the cold rain sheared past every leaf and sizzled on the hot glass of the lanterns. The mare flicked her ears and shook her head, irritated by the sudden shower.

"I'm sorry," said Mario, "I didn't mean to make you walk in this." The road melted and rose in clumps with each of the mare's steps, and sludge clung to the spokes of the wheels. Water trailed and drooled over the brim of Mario's cap, and he reached up to pull it down lower over his face.

With that pulling motion came a sharp blow to the back of Mario's skull. Mario gasped as he felt someone kick him to the far side of the driver's seat. Disturbed at the sound and the rocking of the carriage, the horse came to a stop.

Mario squinted through the colors popping in his vision to see a green face in a black mask grinning manically back at him.

"Terrible weather to be out by yourself, huh? Can't be easy going with all that gold weighing you down, so how's about you hand it over, nice and easy, see?"

Mario breathed heavily, still wincing. "Alright, alright," he said, "I'll give you what you want. Just please don't hurt me."

The thief waited, smirking, as Mario dug quietly in the folds of his coat. However, he was unprepared for the next sensation when a very heavy and very jagged sack of coins collided with his temple. Mario hopped forward onto his feet, glaring with his new weapon in hand as the thief cringed and clutched the side of his head.

"Now, you know darn well that's not what I meant, ya lousy drip!" he complained.

"Be quiet!" Mario snapped. "My brother and I worked hard for this gold! There's no way I'm handing it over to some lowly thug!"

"Who're you callin' a thug, ya fat palooka?" the thief fumed. "The name's Popple, the Shadow Thief! And I'm takin' those coins one way or another!"

Popple swung, and Mario ducked, but while Mario's eyes were on Popple's fist, his other hand darted out with surprising swiftness to grab at the sack of coins. Mario yanked the sack backward, using the leverage to take a swing at Popple's jaw, but he yelped when he suddenly found his knuckles clamped between Popple's oversized teeth.

The next few moments were a confusing series of blows from closed hands, elbows, knees, and soles of boots, the last of which Mario realized, amidst the flurry, was what had struck him in the back of the head. Mario's teeth chattered as he tried to throw Popple off the carriage, but Popple was slick with rainwater, and every attempt Mario made to grab him only put him close enough to swipe again at the gold weighing heavily from Mario's aching palm.

As the coin sack was tugged left and right and clawed at by greedy fingers, the stitching, which had held through weeks of brushing against fingers, tables, and cloth and being frayed from the inside by gnawing gold teeth, finally burst. One, two gold coins slipped from the ripped mouth in the fabric. One clattered wetly on the driver's seat, the other's fall was cut short when Popple's hand closed around it.

Snarling in frustration, Mario grabbed at Popple's wrist, but Popple pulled the offending hand in and slammed his elbow into Mario's ribcage. Popple charged forward with his shoulder jabbing into Mario like the prow of a boat and shoved him off the carriage onto the muddy road.

More coins bled from the widening tear, plopping heavily in the mud. Mario scrambled to gather them, his fingers stirring the road, as Popple glared down at him, breathing hard.

"So, you had to play the hard way? Well, boo! Boo, I say! Well, fine! Keep your crummy coins! But, I'm takin' the horse!"

Mario scrambled to his feet, but the whip was already in Popple's hand, and Mario saw the lantern light illuminate the black tendril as it cracked against the horse's flank.

"Get!" Popple shouted. The horse whinnied in terror and took off, mud spraying from the back of the creaking wheels.

"Wait!" Mario shouted impotently as he tried to run after the quickly retreating carriage. The mud sucked heavily on his boots, and he ached and floundered as he heard the rattling of clockwork faded into the distance. A large bundle slid off the back, shaken loose by the rattling of the carriage disgorging the muck, and Mario heard the crash as metal and wood pieces scraped against each other and shattered.

The carriage was gone. The rain remained. Mario pulled himself, one step at a time, toward the fallen castle.

The rope was broken, and the cloth flapped wetly. Mario didn't want to look. Lying beside the open flap, he saw a single figure, lying with one arm stretched out of the mud. He pulled it from the road and scrubbed the mud away with the wet thumb of his glove. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw it was a knight, standing unarmed with his hands outstretched. Mario knew the rigid were built to bend as the knight beseeched the captive princess above. Now, the cogs were severed, and those legs would never move.

Mario made a sound that was half-sigh, half-groan, and the back of his neck burned at the thought of facing Luigi. All of his hard work, gone. If Mario had left sooner, like he'd said, he could've afforded to stay at the inn, and perhaps there would be no waste. At the very least, perhaps he wouldn't have run into the thief. Now, what would he say?

Mario slipped the knight into his coat pocket. Different parts of his body throbbed from where Popple had struck him, and he was soaked to the bone. It seemed even his very soul was chilled and sopping. Mario wearily thought of the distance he had passed since the inn where the innkeeper waited with her fire crackling below the pot of soup. How long would that same trip be on foot? Mario's legs ached at the very thought of it. The road, he knew, was out of the question. It would pull back against every step he took, fighting against him each time he tried to lift his foot from its grasp, until his shaking legs gave out and folded under his freezing body.

Mario turned his face toward the trees beside him. Their branches, at least, might offer some shelter from the falling rain. Perhaps waiting for the rain to stop was the answer. Would the sun rise before that happened? The idea was depressing.

Still, the tree cover seemed preferable to where he stood, and so he determinedly worked his way to the shelter of the trees.

The rain didn't drum quite so heavily, but the drops that jabbed at his neck and shoulders haphazardly were torturous in their own right. In the open remains of the road, the ache was at least constant. Here, in the blackness of the trees, Mario felt his body tense as his skin anticipated each drop. And the touch of the drops offered no relief, only causing the skin to shudder as if pricked by a needle.

At least the ground was firmer. Mario crunched through the wet rags of the fallen leaves as he rubbed his hands against his shoulders. Mario looked ahead and saw a particularly large tree, its boughs full of vein-like branches reaching into solid bouquets of leaves. Mario knew it foolish to stray too far from the road, but the potential cover of that tree was too tempting to resist. Mario hastily made his way there.

The drops did come smaller and less frequently here. Mario rubbed his hands together and blew hot air into his palms, willing the warmth to spread up his arms. He looked up, not expecting to see anything but more trees but willing to take in any sight that might distract him from the inescapable ache.

Where the trees above would have met the sky, Mario thought he saw stone.

Mario squinted. It _was_ stone. Cutting through the tops of the trees was a flat edge, too flat to be natural. In the darkness, it stood black against the gray sky.

Mario stared. He had passed this way many times and had never seen any sign of a building in this spot. He looked around and saw no road leading to it. It was inexplicably there, a looming presence that disregarded any soul's need for explanation.

Mario couldn't take his eyes off that single line against the sky. He didn't know what kind of building it was. It was so dark and so far off the beaten path he doubted anyone would be there. Whatever presence might have once inhabited that structure had probably long since abandoned it. Still the thought of a sealed roof overhead was enough to compel his steps toward that distant edge.

It was farther than it looked. Mario felt himself slipping and stumbling over the many detritus in his way, the roots of trees, cracked sticks, half-dug burrows, and moss-covered stones. He didn't notice the vines slithering by his feet, and the drumming rain drowned out the faint snarling emerging from behind the gleaming fangs between white lips. Mario didn't look down to see the monsters cowed by the driving rain but kept his gaze fixed on that line, afraid, perhaps, that if he moved his eyes away, he would lose it amidst the surge of the forest.

Eventually, touched only by rain and dirt and stuck-on leaves, he arrived at the front of the structure. It was a wall, rising high above his upturned head. Mario didn't have to walk long along it before he came to an ivy-coiled gate. He peered through it.

Between the creaking bars, he saw a magnificent castle rising into the gloomy sky on the other side of a ragged courtyard. The rain falling over its pointed roofs and looming towers made it shimmer with a kind of white haze. Ornate statues stood posed and curled all up its frame, and their shapes caused the castle's silhouette to appear bizarrely more organic than the trees surrounding it on every side.

Mario stared. It was all too much to take in at one glance. If a single wall was inexplicable, this was impossible. Perhaps Popple had hit him too hard, and now his brain was swimming with phantoms. Perhaps that also explained the nonsensical thought that next popped into his head, which was, "I bet Luigi would love to draw this."

Mario rattled the bars of the gate, but it held firm. He felt drawn into that distant castle, lured as if by a beckoning finger. To see such a strange and beautiful sight and simply walk away, he knew, was impossible for him. A life could not continue unchanged after coming across something like that. He had no idea what he would find inside. He knew only that if he did not see, he would spend the rest of his life wondering, and this he was unwilling to do.

Mario looked around, searching for a way inside. Nearby, a tree stood with its branches reaching over the top of the wall. If the castle were still occupied, such a thing would probably have been trimmed, the tree shooed away as all living things must be. But now the tree was such an open path, it might as well have been a key.

Mario approached the tree. His hands were on its rough trunk when he suddenly stopped. Though as he did so he felt a twinge of distaste, as always, he now thought of Waluigi. Waluigi had said something about a castle, hadn't he? Yes. Not yesterday, but often. The beast lived in a castle, he said, and all the men who entered…

If Waluigi had asked (and he had), Mario would have said (and did), that the very idea of a castle in the middle of the forest was itself ridiculous, let alone a beast inside. But, now, here was the castle. Could it be? Was a beast, in fact, waiting inside, teeth bared, claws drawn, its belly echoing? Mario felt a chill, not in his skin or bones but in the pit of his stomach. He stood at the base of the tree, undecisive.

The thought of Waluigi made him stop, but it was also what made him move again. At the thought of Waluigi's mocking face and derisive laughter, Mario scowled. If he could see Mario now, cowering at the base of his tree while dripping like a caught fish, he would howl with laughter. The idea of being cowed out of anything by Waluigi was enough to make Mario dig his heels into the wood of the tree and hoist himself upward. There was no beast. Perhaps Waluigi had come across this very castle on one of his hunting trips and had made up a story about it. Yes, that was it. Mario climbed.

Luckily, the branch reaching over the wall was thick enough to support Mario's weight without breaking, and Mario stepped gingerly all the way to the end as it gradually sagged toward the cobblestone below. The branch was bent at an easy slope when Mario's feet slipped off the thinnest tip and he landed with a crouch on the other side of the wall. Free of the forest overhead, Mario felt the rain pound heavily on his neck and back, but he saw the shimmer on the roofs of the castle and hurried forward. If the rain was bouncing off the roof, it wasn't getting in.

Mario reached the heavy wooden door. He raised his hand to knock, thought better of it, and pulled on the brass knocker. To his surprise, the door opened, a slow creak its only resistance.

Mario stepped inside and looked around with awe.

If the outside was ornate, then the inside was outright lavish. A huge staircase directly in front of him curved up into a huge vaulted ceiling that seemed the same height as the iron sky outside. The marble floors shined like ice, and the gargoyles that sat perched all along the castle walls had also taken up their residence in here, their wings pressed up against columns, their tails wrapped around the pillars on which they crouched. The red velvet carpet was soft as a freshly cut lawn under Mario's feet as he moved deeper into the entrance hall.

It wasn't really any warmer inside, but it was definitely drier. Mario whipped off his hat and twisted it his hands, squeezing a torrent of rain into the rug. He felt himself dripping as he walked over it. He slapped the cold hat back onto his head and continued forward, unable to keep his eyes or head still.

He didn't really feel up to the staircase at this moment, so he passed to its right and came to a long hallway. On one side was a row of suits of armor, the helmets all different shapes and the plumes all different colors. On the other side was a wall hung with paintings, many of which were larger than the suits. Mario turned his head from left to right, unable to decide which to gaze at. The paintings were a riot of color blues, greens, oranges, and pinks, depicting many different scenes, dogs running after ducks across a pond, ships sailing out of busy ports against a burning sunset – or was it a sunrise? – upturned baskets spilling out with fruits Mario had never seen before. Though the subjects were mundane, the color, size and skill were enough to make the images seem as fantastic as any fairytale.

As for the armor, though the spears held in the metal hands were all identical, each suit was unique enough to be a work of art in its own right. Over the surface of each plate were etched tiny, intricate designs of vines, leaves, and creatures whose outlines glimmered even in the low light, and the crests on each shield were remarkably bold, lions and flowers and brimming cups surrounded by borders of every color. Mario again found himself thinking of Luigi, who always had to take his references from books he couldn't understand. What would he say if he found himself in here?

Mario didn't stop to take in any of these wonders. Much as he didn't want to miss a single detail, he also was impatient to see more. His eyes drank in every in huge, restless gulps.

Suddenly, very softly, underneath the sound of Mario's footsteps on the carpet, he heard what sounded like a soft creak. Mario turned and looked behind him. Nothing in the hall was moving, there was nothing new there, but he saw that one of the helmets several placed back was turned in his direction. Mario eyed that helmet nervously. Had it been facing that way before? Mario was sure they had all been facing the opposite wall.

Mario slowly turned his head back and kept walking, his head more still then it had been. He heard the creaking sound again. He turned back. Now two helmets were turned in his direction.

Mario kept moving down the hall, his eyes fixed on those helmets. They had all looked empty. No, they hadn't. He couldn't tell. The eye holes were all shadowed. He had just assumed they were empty. His feet kept moving as he silently dared the helmets to do the same.

" _Turn back."_

The whisper came right above his ear. Mario pivoted in the direction of the voice and found himself looking up at one of the suits of armor. Was his helmet turned down at him or was it still facing the wall?

" _Turn back."_

Mario jumped. This voice had come further down the line, back from the way he had come. He looked and saw a third helmet creak slowly in his direction.

" _Turn back."_

Mario ran, not back where he had come, past where the knights had moved, but further toward the end. As he ran, he heard a rapid succession of metal scraping on metal, and he knew all the helmets he had admired were turned after him in a line as he sprinted down the hall.

" _Turn back! Turn back! TURN BACK!"_

Mario came to a door and slammed it behind him. He panted hard with his back against the door. He had heard ghosts sometimes haunted this forest, but he had never seen them. It was possible that this was their idea of a hilarious prank, but either way, he was in no hurry to go back down that hallway.

Mario looked around the room he now found himself in. This one was smaller than the ones that came before it, though no less grand. A carved mahogany table stood surrounded by tall, carved chairs. One chair alone looked more expensive than the horse and carriage Mario had rented combined. On one wall was a portrait of a mountainous landscape, and a dull chandelier hung above, magnificent in spite of the cobwebs.

Mario walked deeper into the room, looking around more nervously now. He heard a soft whisper, along the floor, voiceless this time as though a breeze had sighed against his feet.

He looked down and there, just behind the feet of the table, was a pink flower petal.

Mario bent to look. It moved and settled softly, as though it had just blown in. But blown in from where? There were no windows to the outside, and Mario felt no draft moving across his wet skin. The soft pink stood out even in the shadow of the table, comforting in its gentle brightness.

Mario heard another sigh, so soft he felt it more than really heard it, and looked up in time to see another petal settle just beyond the opposite doorway. Mario approached where the petal had fallen.

"Hello?" he said, as he poked his head around the doorway. He saw nobody, but further down the hallway, he saw another petal flutter into place.

"Is someone there?" Mario asked. He followed after the petal. "I don't mean any harm. I just need help!"

As Mario approached the third petal, he saw once again that there was nobody in sight, but around the corner, another petal appeared. The petals continued to fall, one after another, in a soft, floral trail. Mario knew he was being led somewhere, and sometimes he could hear something scurrying just out of sight, but always by the time he reached where the sound had been, there was always only the petal.

At last, a petal blew into view outside a room where light seemed to be spilling. Eyes wide, Mario followed.

Several petals lay like a pebbled path to the base of a small side table. On the table stood a vase full of pink roses. Petals were strewn all over the surface of the table, surrounding a single bare stem, which lay on its side beside the vase. Behind the vase and table and the armchair beside them was a roaring fire.

Mario felt the warmth reach him even before he ran to the fireplace. With a sigh of relief he sank down to the floor in front of it, not even bothering with the chair. He closed his eyes, enjoying the flickering of the light over his face, and the warmth pressing in on his wet frame.

He opened his eyes and looked around for whoever had led him to this spot, but there was no one. As his eyes wandered, he spotted a teapot and a cup of tea that had been hidden behind the flower vase when he entered. He reached up and touched the surface of the teapot. It was warm, too.

Mario was abruptly aware of how dry and sore the back of throat was, but the sight of the teapot made him suspicious. His mind worked, weighing the pros and cons as he peeled off his soaked jacket and lay it out in front of the fire. He lay his hat beside it and looked up at the tea pot again. Finally deciding that dying of poisoning couldn't be worse than dying of thirst, he poured himself a cup and drank it rapidly so he couldn't change his mind.

He burnt his tongue, but the tea itself was delicious. He tasted honey. Mario spent a moment clutching the hot tea cup in his hands before taking another sip.

After a moment spent waiting to be poisoned, Mario finally allowed himself to relax. He didn't know who had lit a fire, poured him a cup of tea, and then left, but he didn't want to miss them in case they returned. And besides, the fire felt so wonderful. It was strange that he didn't simply melt in front of it, like candle wax. It was tempting to sink into the chair and fall asleep in front of that fire, but strangely enough considering all he'd been through, he didn't feel sleepy at all. In fact, he felt wide awake. Mario frowned down into the now half-empty tea cup he was holding. Was it possible this particular kind of tea had an energizing quality? Strange.

Mario twisted where he sat to set the tea cup back on the table.

A second later, it had rolled to the floor and shattered.

It was not clumsiness that caused Mario's hand to knock into the cup and send it clinking over the saucer but a sudden jolt through his entire body. Over the soft crackling of the fire, he'd heard a distant bellowing roar, so enraged it seemed almost to be in anguish. Mario had reacted before the sound had reached his brain, and as the monster's cry echoed inside his skull, he saw the stain slowly spreading over the carpet.

The fire continued to pop. Mario shakily raised himself off the floor and into the chair. The cushions sank sweetly under him as he rose to his feet and peered over the back of the chair. Nothing appeared in the dark hallway behind the door, but as he listened to the pounding in his ears, he heard the roar, shorter but sharper, almost like a bark. The bark of a dog chained and starving.

Mario felt a tug on his pantleg. He jumped again and looked down to see the flower vase was now perched on the arm of the chair. It tilted a porcelain face up toward him under the bouquet of roses.

"It's time to go!" it said anxiously.

Mario stared. The face was small, anxious, the voice high and feminine like that of a young girl. "You-? Talk-?" he stammered, staccato.

"There's no time!" the flower vase begged. "Please, come with me!"

It – _She_ – took his hand in a porcelain appendage that wrapped around his fingers like a leaf. Mario felt cool clay. A distant crashing sound, something heavy breaking on a hard floor, reached his ears. The flower vase hopped from the chair to the floor, and Mario didn't resist as it led him back out of the room.

She may have had arms and a face, but she had no legs, and she moved down the hall with a heavy hopping motion. The flowers rustled and shifted with every bounce, and Mario felt himself propelled forward in jerks.

"What-? What are you!?" Mario finally managed to gasp.

"My name's Toadette," the flower vase said, "and I'm sorry, but we really have to go! They told me to keep a lookout!"

"Lookout for what?" Mario said. But, he already knew.

"There's no time to explain! Keep running!" Toadette the flower vase pulled him back down the path he had fallen. Rose petals kept fluttering by his feet, some from his strange companion, some lifted back from the floor.

Meanwhile, the distant sounds were drawing steadily nearer. Each crash was closer, each roar louder. Mario thought he could hear each rattle of the throat from which the roar emerged. Too soon, another sound joined the cacophony, a gently rhythmic clicking, as of sharp talons on marble.

When they reached the room with the table, Toadette let go of Mario's hand and pushed his calf toward the opposite door. "I'm slowing you down!" she shouted. "You can make it from here!"

"Wait! What'll happen to you?" Mario cried.

"I'll be fine!" Toadette was frantic. "Just please go!"

Her plea was so desperate that Mario ran. Toadette with a burst of effort, shoved the door shut behind him.

As soon as she had done so, a long, serpentine body slipped into the room, so quickly it was though it had been poured. Livid blue eyes narrowed at Toadette, who shrank back against the door, her strange hand to her mouth.

"Mistress! Please forgive me, but he was lost out in the rain! That's all! _Please don't hurt him!"_

The beast didn't wait to hear anymore. In one motion it was along the wall beside the door, which was flung open with a violent force that barreled Toadette forward, headless of her futile attempts to dig her base into the carpet. The door stopped halfway across its arc, too soon to shatter Toadette against the opposite wall, but the gap was wide enough for the end of the tail to whip through the door as Toadette cried out in despair.

The door was within sight when Mario heard a skittering just behind him along the left wall. Plates of metal rained down behind him, and suddenly there was a crash right before his eyes, and he had to skid to a stop as the suit of armor crumbled to pieces across the floor in front of him. Chest plate, spaulders, empty, hollow-eyed helmet all cluttered to the floor behind the rolling spear. Mario looked up and saw the beast slither to the floor and raise itself to meet Mario's gaze, a snarl building in its throat.

Mario was shaking as he stared back. As with the paintings and the castle itself, he took in the beast in a gulp, each detail crowding out the one before it. Its face was long and reptilian, its bared teeth jagged and stained, its body long and thick as the trunks of the trees soaked in the rain outside. A pair of horns curled over the blue eyes, their whites gleaming. In the low light, the hard, cobbled scales shone with the dull color that Mario had seen just under a candle flame, the orange light shining through the wax as it melted. As it snarled, advancing in imperceptible degrees in the way of animals, it lay a single clawed foot into the surface of the chest plate in front of it, and the talons pierced through that armor as if it were parchment.

Backing up slowly, Mario seized the fallen spear and whipped the point toward the Beast. Its eyes narrowed.

"You don't even have a weapon of your own?" it whispered. "You won't last nearly as long as the others." Its voice was low, dangerous, yet unmistakably feminine.

Mario fought to keep the point steady. "What others?"

"The ones who came before you. All of them, hoping to skin me, mount me, thinking themselves heroes. What about you? Do you still feel brave?"

Mario shook his head furiously. "You're wrong!" he shouted. "I didn't come for anything like that! I just wanted to get out of the rain!"

"Liar!" the Beast snarled. It lunged.

Mario emitted a cry as he thrust the spear forward. The Beast turned only slightly to turn its face away, and the tip plunged toward the Beast's neck. Mario watched in horror as the tip bounced off the surface of the scales with a ringing sound.

He thought he saw the Beast grin as it coiled back with its fangs bared. Mario jumped, and the spear clattered to the floor as the Beast surged by underneath his feet. He landed on his side on the Beast's back, and rolled as the rest of its hard body slid underneath him. He found himself back on the carpet amidst the clutter of armor, dazed.

The Beast's tail whipped into Mario, knocking the wind out of him as he slammed into a still upright suit of armor. It collapsed like a deck of cards over him. Mario straightened amidst the pile that had once resembled a person and found the coat of arms sitting halfway in his lap. Before him, the Beast turned, its eye fixed on him. Its body tightened like a spring, and Mario had less than a second to prepare. As the Beast lunged again, Mario raised the shield horizontally from his body, the pointed bottom held out like the point of a lance.

He felt a shockwave rip through the surface of the shield and slam his back into the wall as the Beast gave a cry of pain. Mario dared a look. The Beast was writhing, gritting its gnashing teeth, as its tail coiled and jerked sickeningly. He had drawn no blood, but he had felt only a soft kind of resistance as the tip of the shield had jabbed into the soft scales on the Beast's chest. The armor on its chest, he realized, was thinner.

Mario didn't risk a second blow. Dropping the shield, he waded desperately through the pool of metal and managed to free his legs. The Beast looked up to see him running for the entrance hall. A feral sound that was almost a scream escaped from between the Beast's teeth before it darted forward.

Mario grabbed a spear from another knight, pulling it down to the floor with a cascade of bells. He pointed it back and up as the Beast crawled from the floor back to the wall. Held back by a spear that now knew its target, the Beast streamed past Mario and sank its claws into a neck not of flesh but of stone. The neck of the gargoyle mounted to the base of the pillar just above shattered, and Mario realized the trap too late as the creature fell onto him.

If a hammer held by a giant had swung down on his body, Mario doubted he would be in any more pain. The stone that slammed him to the floor bruised and scraped and squeezed and kept squeezing, pressing the air from his lungs and stomach with agonizing slowness. He heard a crack that he knew was not the stone, and a searing pain shot through the right leg. Tears came to his eyes as he gasped, sucking in breaths full of white powder that coated his mouth and throat and made him cough. He felt the wood of the spear pressed painfully against his ribs. The stone has missed his head and neck, so he was able to lift his face to see the Beast slip to the floor before him, its face grimly satisfied.

It pulled its head back, its open mouth rumbling.

Yet again, his brother's face surging into Mario's mind.

" _Luigi…!"_

* * *

 **AN:**

 _Yup, that was Daisy. Make no mistake, an exuberant girl like her doesn't grow that personality overnight._

 _It was out of Mario's hands, anyway. He had no choice but to get out of the rain because if he didn't get dry, he'd be completely useless._

 _In case you don't know what I just referenced, do yourself a favor and search "Phelous Beauty and the Beast" on YouTube. I guarantee you will have fun._

 _Bet you guys weren't expecting Popple, huh? Cursed Popple calls you fat and steals your horse. The idea of Mario needing to seek shelter in the castle because of a mugger actually came from the Bevanfield version of_ Beauty and the Beast, _in which the Beauty's father is attacked by a highwayman, unlike the Disney one where he loses his way because he's an idiot. If you get a chance to watch the Bevanfield version, do yourself a favor and don't. Seriously, it's probably the worst version of the story._

 _I changed the cover image from a yellow rose to an orange one, since I did a little research into rose symbolism and found out that yellow roses actually symbolize platonic friendship, whereas orange can represent passion and romantic love. Also, Luigi fans might associate yellow roses with Peasley, and orange is more Daisy's color._

 _Your reviews have been wonderful! Please keep posting them! Ciao!_


	3. He Promised

**Chapter Three: He Promised**

Luigi snuck another glance at the heavy wooden door beside him. From behind the paneling drifted the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses. Luigi stood for a moment, letting his gaze rest ponderingly on the door handle, but he trudged off for yet another lap around the square.

Luigi was now on his seventh rotation, and his legs were starting to become sore. On the first three, he had not even hesitated in front of the tavern but had simply passed it by. It was only starting on the fourth circuit that he began to pull to a brief halt in front of the building and only on the last two that he had given serious thought to actually entering.

Three days had passed since Mario left, and much as he tried, he could not will himself to attempt to fulfill his promise before then. A few times on walks to the market or simply outside to stretch his legs, he had come across groups of people chatting animatedly and had steeled himself to join them only to walk away, embarrassed at both his failure to follow through and his audacity for even considering an attempt. Still other times, he had found neighbors sitting alone and had again tried to budge himself toward them and again walked away. What if such people were sitting alone because they wanted to be alone? He didn't want to impose.

Three days of abandoned attempts to integrate himself had led to this moment, trudging through the windy night outside a bar. Often, Luigi would see groups in threes or fours head inside, and the drift of merry sounds would grow into a swell before subsiding as the door closed. To many, such sounds were obviously inviting, and yet to Luigi, the effect was more akin to a kind of poisonous miasma. Wading into the bog from which the toxic fumes emanated took more resolve that Luigi felt he had.

He had hoped that the night's chilly air would succeed in herding him into the tavern. Ever since the rainstorm three nights ago, the weather had turned abruptly cold, and the orange light streaming through the windows looked warm. But even as Luigi shivered, he could not bring himself to take the simple few steps to the door and open it. He felt as if to do so would be a trespass somehow.

Yet again, Luigi found himself coming to the tavern, and he was just beginning to think that perhaps he should put off actually entering for another day or two. But, as luck would have it, a couple of Toads entered the bar just as Luigi was approaching it. One held the door open for the other, and as he looked past his companion, he saw Luigi approaching. Luigi found himself illuminated vividly in the rectangle of orange light cast by the door, as though a searchlight had been cast on him.

The Toad's small fingers were splayed over the wood of the open door. He was smiling courteously at Luigi. At the sight of that smile, Luigi knew there was no escape.

"Thank you," he mumbled as he passed.

"You're welcome!" the Toad chirped. He hurried away, and the door swung behind Luigi.

Luigi found himself in a bubble of echoing chatter. Townspeople of every species were scattered over tables of many different sizes. Though the overall mood was jovial, the emotions running high at each table were wildly different. At one table, a group of Toads seemed to be having an intense political discussion, at another a group of Shy Guys were loudly singing a bawdy song, at still another, a pair of Hammer Bros. were locked in a furious arm-wrestling match. At one end of the room, a single Beanish bartender averted his eyes patiently from the amorous Koopa couple holding hands with mooning eyes on the barstools, while at the long table in the middle of the room another Koopa (who seemed to know the previous two), was sobbing into his glass while a sympathetic Paratroopa rubbed the back of his shell.

Luigi felt utterly lost, as though he had wandered into an enclosure at the zoo. He longed to be back in is workshop, if for no other reason than to get his brain reoriented. All these people all so utterly occupied in their own lives and so seemingly confident of their belonging made him feel dizzy. Figuring out a way to join them seemed a monumental task.

But, the idea of facing Mario and telling him that he simply couldn't do it forced Luigi to reluctantly sink into a chair at a single person table. Mario had only asked one thing of him, and Luigi could not face letting him down.

It didn't help matters when he yelped and fell out of his chair when the Boo waitress appeared. She giggled as Luigi pulled himself shakily to his feet.

"My, full of energy tonight, are we?" she said.

"S-Soh… I just… um…" Luigi stuttered.

"My name's Peeka," said the waitress. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Luigi swallowed nervously. "Do you, um, have Chuckola Cola?"

"Sure do!" she answered sweetly. "Coming right up!"

She floated away. Luigi breathed a sigh of relief.

Luigi wrapped his cloak around himself, wishing he had chosen a chair nearer the fireplace. In his haste to sit down, he had chosen a table quite close to the door, and a blast of chilly air hit the back of his neck each time the door opened.

He came to further regret his choice of seat when the two Goombas at the next table over received the bill.

"You get it. I paid last time," said one.

"Me? You ate twice as much tonight! If you're going to stuff your fat mouth, then you should pay!"

"Hey! You ate some of my schnitzel!"

"That's because you offered it to me!"

"So what? You eat, you pay!"

" _You_ pay!"

Luigi knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn't help it, and he was far from the only one. The Goombas, however, seemed utterly indifferent to the audience they were attracting.

"You're always like this! Every time it's your turn to pay, you criticize everything I order! 'Are you sure you need that cheese? Are you sure you want those turnips?' Every time!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! And when it's my turn, you pig out!"

"Who're you calling a pig?"

There was a crash. On the last sentence, the offended Goomba had leapt onto the table, and his empty glass chattered on the wood floor. Luigi sharply drew his foot back as the last few drops spritzed over his shoe.

The Goomba seemed immediately cowed at the sight of the glass shards glittering on the floor. "Oops," he said.

"Nice going," said his companion.

"Hey! What's going on here!?"

Luigi received a nasty jolt. Standing right in front of him, glowering at the Goomba on the table was none other than Waluigi.

"You think I'm running a circus here? Who said you could stand on my table?" he barked.

"Geez, I'm sorry. I just got a little heated is all."

"Oh, is that all? Look, I don't mind a little roughhousing, but when you start breaking my property, then we have a problem."

"Sorry," said the Goomba again. "I'll-I'll pay for it."

"Oh, well you?" said his companion.

"Shut up!" he snapped.

"You'd better," Waluigi muttered. He snapped and gestured to a Toad sweeping the floor. "Hey, over here!" The Toad hurried over, his dustpan clattering behind him.

Luigi had almost pushed himself free of his chair when Waluigi turned his head and spotted him. "Luigi?" he asked, bewildered.

Luigi froze. He turned in time to see Waluigi's face light up. "It is!" In one stride, Waluigi was at Luigi's table, with a long, spindly arm pinning Luigi to his side. "Come to pay us a little visit, eh? You should have told me you were coming! I would have given you a proper welcome."

Luigi cringed. He knew Waluigi would make him pay if he tried to push him off. "Wha-What are you doing here?" was all he could manage.

Waluigi smirked. "Didn't anyone tell you? This is my place. I own it." He leaned in closer, grinning. "You'd know that if you could read the sign."

Luigi felt utterly humiliated. Of all the bars in the world, why, oh why, did he have to walk into Waluigi's? It was like an absurd joke.

"Hey," said Waluigi with a kind of writhing delight, "your brother's still out of town, isn't he? Poor Luigi. Who's going to save you if you trip over a dandelion?" He laughed raucously at his own wit.

Luigi took the opportunity to slip out of Waluigi's arm. "I was actually just leaving," he said meekly. "If you'll excuse me…"

"Nonsense!" Luigi's body went rigid as Waluigi scooped him forward again. "You just got here! Why don't we have a little fun? Listen, everyone!" Waluigi called to the rest of the room. The chatter immediately dropped. "How would you feel about hearing a little story?"

Laughter and good-natured groaning followed Waluigi's question. "Not this again!" someone called. "We've heard it a million times!"

"Oh, but you haven't heard it like this!" Waluigi called back. "Because this time, my good buddy Luigi's going to help me. Isn't that right, Luigi?"

Waluigi clapped Luigi on the back so hard Luigi was thrown forward. "Come on!" said Waluigi and Luigi straightened. "Let's give him a hand!"

A spattering of applause emerged from around the room. All eyes were on Luigi. It was like a nightmare. Luigi slowly backed away.

"Oh, he's a little shy!" said Waluigi in mock sympathy. "Don't leave us hanging, Luigi!"

The clapping in the room became louder, punctuated with voices calling Luigi's name in cajoling tones. The Shy Guys at one table got the idea to pound their glasses rhythmically on the table, and soon the whole room was doing it, pounding out a glass drumbeat. The sound rooted Luigi to the spot, allowing Waluigi to sweep him towards the long table in the middle of the room.

Cheering erupted as Waluigi pulled Luigi onto the table. Luigi saw the patrons surrounding him on all sides as the sea surrounds a raft.

"That's more like it, Luigi!" said Waluigi. "Lights!"

On cue, Peeka and another Boo who greatly resembled her flew around the room, extinguishing all the lanterns. Soon, the only light remaining came from the fireplace.

Before Luigi could properly take in the sudden darkness, Waluigi had grabbed him. In one move, his pulled his cloak up to his forehead and tightened it. As Luigi struggled to part the cloak around his face, Waluigi pulled the tablecloth off a nearby table with a flourish and wrapped it around Luigi's waist. He then lifted a (mercifully clean) glass ashtray at his feet and turned it upside down on Luigi's head. All this done, he spun Luigi around to face the wall opposite the fireplace.

"Behold," said Waluigi, "our princess."

The light of the fire behind him threw Luigi's shadow over the entire face of the opposite wall. Cast in silhouette, the cloth around his waist became a skirt, the cloak over his head a flowing veil, and the ash tray a sparkling crown. Luigi was staring at the dark, crude cutout of a princess.

The room howled with laughter. Luigi longed for the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

"Once upon a time," said Waluigi dramatically, "there was a beautiful princess. The king, her father, had never had any other child, and so he treated her like the treasure she was. He gave her everything she deserved, a huge castle fell of servants, beautiful gowns, jewels of every color and size, riches beyond measure. Nothing was too good for his little girl."

Waluigi reached over and pinched Luigi's cheek between his knuckles. A few people whistled.

"But one terrible night, a beast appeared." Without pausing, Waluigi bent down and whipped the tablecloth off another table. He draped it over his own shoulders and stood to face the wall. His shadow, with his arms outstretched, became huge and menacing. "He had long been jealous of the princess's wealth, and when he saw how beautiful she was, he vowed to possess her and everything she owned."

Luigi was too humiliated to resist as Waluigi swept the tablecloth over him, causing his shadow to engulf his.

"He ransacked the castle," Waluigi continued, "and declared himself king. And he forced our poor, defenseless princess to be his bride.

"When the king heard of what had befallen his lovely daughter, he sent a knight to slay the beast." Waluigi cast his eyes around the room and saw the Toad with the broom empty the dustbin. "You!" he shouted. "Come be a knight!"

The Toad frowned. "Um, I don't think I got all the glass yet," he protested.

"That can wait," said Waluigi dismissively. "Get up here!"

The Toad wearily struggled onto the table, still holding his broom. Once he was standing on the table, he brandished the broom halfheartedly.

"Come on! Come at me!" Waluigi urged.

The Toad charged forward with the broom handle pointed forward like a lance. Waluigi kicked the handle upward as it approached, causing the Toad to stumble backwards. Waluigi swept his other leg under the Toad's feet, sending him sprawling.

"The beast made quick work of the knight," Waluigi continued as the Toad groaned. "When his champion never returned, the king sent another. And then another. Champion after champion were sent to slay the beast.

"Well?" Waluigi shouted to the room. He leaned back and gestured with his fingers. "Champions? Come at me!"

It seemed the rest of the tavern was quite familiar with this game. Luigi saw patron after patron leave their table and run, jump, or fly at Waluigi, sometimes after slamming their glass resolutely on the table's surface and sometimes only after being nudged and cajoled by their friends. The Koopa who had been crying at the table where Waluigi now stood was the first one up and also the first one down as Waluigi jumped in time to bring his feet down on his spinning shell. That shell was then thrown at an approaching Paratroopa, knocking him out of the air. Waluigi turned in time to see a Fly Guy approaching from the other direction. Waluigi coolly pulled his mask off with two fingers, causing him to retreat with his hands over his face. Luigi felt the table shiver under his feet as a Hammer Bro. pulled himself onto the table, hammer in hand. He took a swing at Waluigi, who ducked and delivered an uppercut to the underside of the Hammer Bro.'s exposed beak.

Luigi tried to take advantage of the commotion to slip off the table, but he found himself gasping as something bony slammed into his gut. He was soon hoisted into the air by Waluigi, who was dueling a Mole with the Hammer Bro.'s discarded hammer. From his perch on Waluigi's shoulder, Luigi heard the cheers of the bar, many egging on the Mole but most simply whooping for the joy of it, caught up in the rush of the fight.

Waluigi soon succeeded in knocking the Mole off the table. A single Shy Guy remained. With a grunt, he hoisted a massive turnip over his head and chucked it straight at Waluigi's head. Smirking, Waluigi tossed Luigi into the air and ducked. The turnip passed under Luigi's feet and over Waluigi's head. As a very disoriented Luigi began to descend, Waluigi tossed the hammer directly at the Shy Guy's head, knocking him backwards into the patrons surrounding the table. Luigi landed with a heavy thud back into Waluigi's waiting arms.

Luigi pulled his cloak back over his eyes as the bar cheered. Waluigi dumped Luigi onto the table and raised his arms in triumph.

"No matter how many heroes the king sent," Waluigi went on, "the result was always the same. Not a single one returned. The beast devoured them all. And then, when there were no more knights left, the king armed himself and went to save his daughter himself. The beast ate him, too."

Luigi tried to pull himself off the table yet again, but Waluigi's foot came down on the cloak. "And so, to this very day, the princess waits in the castle where the beast holds her prisoner, waiting for someone to save her. Knights and kings have all failed her, but she knows, as she waits in the castle on the other side of the forest that only the valiant can cross, she knows that someday her true love will save her." Waluigi dramatically threw the tablecloth off his shoulders and lifted his foot from Luigi's cloak. He then grabbed Luigi's arm and pulled him up. "Someday, a dashing hero will do what no one else could and slay the monster. And on that day, she'll finally be free!"

Waluigi lifted Luigi's arm up with his, neglecting to count for the difference in their heights. Luigi found his feet dangling above the surface of the table. As the room clapped appreciatively, Waluigi took a sweeping bow, dropping Luigi in the process.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Waluigi beamed. "And don't forget to thank our lovely princess!"

The bar cheered and whistled, but Luigi was already back on the floor, kicking the tablecloth off his ankles. He yanked his cloak back down around his shoulders and fled through the cheers back to his seat. He sat down with a huff, keeping his eyes resolutely down.

Peeka floated up to the table with a tray. She set a glass on the table in front of Luigi.

"Here's your Cola, sir," she said. "Boss says it's on the house."

Luigi wrapped his fingers around the handle without lifting his face. "Thank you," he muttered. Peeka fluttered away.

Luigi's forehead hit the table. If he had challenged himself to imagine a worst-case scenario, he doubted he would have come up with something this terrible. How quickly would word of Waluigi's little show spread? Regardless of the answer, there were an awful lot of people in this town who would never respect Luigi, despite the fact that Luigi had never learned their names. The thought of all the people in this room swapping stories of the idiot in the skirt with the ash tray on his head made his stomach churn. He no longer had any taste for the Cola broiling in his hand. If he so much as tasted that sickening sweetness, he was sure he'd vomit.

Luigi rolled his head miserably to the side. Through the gap in the patrons, who had mostly returned to their own conversation, he saw a table he hadn't noticed before. Nothing much stood out about it other than the fact that the creatures sitting around it looked particularly rough. Still, it held no particular interest to Luigi, who only found himself watching them because they were in his line of sight.

The rest of the group was listening to the complaints of a particular individual seated in the middle.

"Boo! Boo, I say!" he was saying. "Who does this wise guy think he is?"

"No kidding!" commented a Dry Bones appreciatively. "He hit you _with_ the money?"

"That's what I said! You deaf?" the speaker gnashed his teeth at the memory. "Here I am, just trying to make a living, and this palooka tries to brain me with his loot! I could feel my teeth rattle, see? I've had plenty of marks try and get smart, but this guy was two eggs shy of a basket! A real lunatic, see?"

The speaker was loud, indignant, and Luigi didn't much like the look of that black mask he wore. Still he kept listening.

"So, business has been rough, huh?" said a Bandit.

The speaker's face broke into a wide grin, which Luigi found to be quite unsettling. "Not so rough," he said. He reached under the table into something Luigi couldn't see and pulled something out. "Feast your eyes, boys!" he announced proudly.

Luigi bolted upright. There, sitting in this stranger's hand, was the swan clock that Luigi had built. He remembered studying the pictures of the ugly, gray duckling trailing behind the train of yellow ducks, he remembered sketching the swan's wings over and over to get the feathers right, he remembered setting the cogs and carving the birds and painting the wood with a still hand, but most of all he remembered handing that clock to Mario just before he set off for the fair. _"Why are you wishing me luck? I should be wishing you luck!"_

Luigi was already moving as the Bandit whistled behind his mask. "Fancy. He had that on him?"

"His whole cart was full of junk like this!" said Popple. "It was all a buncha' toys and music boxes and all kinds a' whatchamacallits! Most of that stuff was so big I had to dump it somewhere!"

"Excuse me!" exclaimed Luigi.

The heads of all the monsters at the table turned at once. Many of them blinked dully, bemused at the sight of the small, mustachioed man who abruptly before them. Popple looked no more enlightened than his cohorts. "Hey… you're that princess guy, ain't ya?" Popple pointed up at the long table, as his grin returned. "You looked good up there!"

"Where did you get that clock?" Luigi asked anxiously.

Popple looked around. "Anybody know this guy?"

"Sure I know him. He's the princess!" shouted the Dry Bones.

They laughed, Popple most raucously of all. Luigi's cheeks burned, but he didn't move. "I said, where did you get that clock?" he insisted.

Popple's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you? It's no business of yours where I got it, see?"

"But it is!" Luigi shouted, "because I'm the one who made it!"

Luigi now had their full attention. Popple's smile was gone, but his current expression was no less frightening.

"You don't say?" he said. "Now that I get a good look at you, you do look like that red guy on the road."

It seemed to Luigi that the burning sensation had moved from his cheeks up into his temples. His brain churned. "You stole it?" he gasped.

"Hey now!" Popple barked. "Don't go around pointing fingers, see? How do you know that wise guy didn't give it to me?"

"I heard you talking!" Luigi yelled. "I know that you took it! He wouldn't give it to someone like you!"

Popple gnashed his teeth. "Boo! Boo, I say! What does a dunce who dresses up like a princess think he's doing acting tough? I say it's Red's own fault for being a wise guy! Who does he think he is, flashing all those coins at the inn like a big shot? And when I try to get him to share, like any generous soul would, this palooka thinks it's funny to try and knock my lights out! I say I'm owed a little compensation for my pain and suffering, see?"

Popple's cohorts laughed. "Compensation!" hooted the Bandit. "That's a good one."

Luigi's eyes were locked onto Popple's grinning face. _"Where is he?"_ he shouted.

Popple shrugged. "Who knows? Probably still in the woods, where I left him. He's not getting far without a horse!" Popple turned to the group around him. "You shoulda seen him there, standing in the mud like a pig!"

The table screeched back across the wood floor as Luigi pulled himself up in one motion and seized the front of Popple's shirt. Popple's yellow eyes widened in shock as Luigi stood on the table above him, his eyes blazing. All chatter in the tavern dropped into silence as all eyes took in the sight of the timid clockmaker with Popple's shirt balled in both fists.

"You-!" Luigi hissed. _"You!"_

Suddenly, Luigi heard a low, dangerous growl in his right ear. He turned and saw a Broozer glaring down at him menacingly. Its razor-sharp teeth gleamed underneath its quivering lip, and it pounded its gloves fists together in hungry anticipation.

Popple's shocked expression melted back into a smile. He gently patted Luigi's arm. "Hey, hey, I understand. You've had a long night, tensions are running high, yeah? But there's no need to get violent, see? Why don't you back off, and we'll just drop this whole thing?"

Luigi breathed hard. Slowly, unwillingly, his fingers uncurled. Popple smugly dropped back into his chair. Luigi looked around at the monsters surrounding Popple, each one sizing him up and decidedly unimpressed. Luigi turned and hopped briskly off the table.

He could heard Popple laughing again as he headed for the door. "Pretty princess thought she was gonna wallop me!" he hooted.

Waluigi's eyes were still fixed on the door as it swung shut behind Luigi.

* * *

The five of spades snapped as thick thumb pressed it to the table. Wario blinked sleepily in the dull lamplight. He was on his fifth game of Solitaire, and so far, he had only managed to win twice. He would've sworn before any judge that someone had slipped extra twos into his deck; they seemed to crop up constantly.

The whistle of the wind and the soft pelt of leaves against the windows were the only sound that reached the office interior. It certainly was getting cold. Wario felt a tickle in his nose and blew a probing breath through his nostrils. Without lifting his eyes from the cards, he reached up and buried his pinkie in his nose up to the knuckle.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a bang. Wario yanked his finger out of his nose with a wet pop and scrambled to grab the cards that the breeze had scattered.

"Inspector, I need your help!" Luigi was shouting.

"What? What is it? Knock first, why don't you!" Wario cried. He shuffled the cards into a sloppy pile as he glared at Luigi, whose cheeks were still flushed from the outside air.

"I'm sorry!" he said, as he stepped closer to the desk. "I know it's late, but I have a crime to report!"

"Alright, but talk fast! Can't you see I'm busy?" Wario pulled a small notebook out of his desk and flipped it open.

"My brother Mario is missing!" Luigi cried. "He was heading to the fair in the city when he was attacked by a robber! He stole his horse and left him stranded there!"

"Okay…" Wario muttered as his pencil moved across the page. "Do you have any idea who did it?"

"Yes!" Luigi nodded fiercely. "It was a Beanish man with bright green skin! He was short, and wears a black mask, black hat, and purple striped shirt!"

As the details reached Wario's ears, the pencil stopped. Wario glanced up at Luigi. "Did you happen to catch his name?" he asked quietly.

"Well, no…" Luigi admitted, "but I know where he is! He's at Waluigi's Tavern right now! If you go now, you might be able to catch him!"

Wario remained in his chair. He lay the pencil flat on the table. "Do you have any proof?" he asked.

Luigi looked down at Wario, dismayed. "He told me so himself!"

Wario shook his head. "I'm afraid your word doesn't count as proof." He picked up his pencil and resumed scribbling in his notebook. "If your brother were here to testify himself, then maybe I could something for you, but otherwise…"

"But that's exactly the problem!" Luigi cried. "He's not here!"

Wario sighed, as though forcing himself to be patient with Luigi's density. "Look," he said, "your brother was headed to the city, yes?"

"Yes?"

"And that fair… It would have only started today, right?"

"Well, yes…"

"And it's a trip of a few days back after that, yes?"

"That's right, but…"

"So when exactly were you expecting him back?"

"Well, in about a week," Luigi admitted, "But-!"

"Well, there you go!" said Wario shrugging. "He's not supposed to be here anyway, so you don't know if anything bad happened. He's probably at the fair right now, safe and sound." In the notebook, a crude doodle of Luigi was starting to form. Wario amused himself by drawing his mustache comically large.

"But, I know that he's not!" Luigi shouted. "He's somewhere out there right now, and we need to bring him home!"

"I say we wait and see," said Wario. Lead smeared on the page as Wario colored in Luigi's mustache. "If a week goes by, and your brother still hasn't appeared, then I'll send out a search party."

"THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!"

Wario jumped as Luigi's hands slammed on the desk in front of him. Cards fluttered and spun to the floor. Wario blinked as Luigi glared down at him.

Luigi's hard expression lasted only a moment before he realized what he had done. He shrunk back sheepishly. "I… I'm sorry…" he said.

Wario glared. "You'd better watch that tone of yours," he warned, "unless you want to be arrested for the assault of an officer!"

Luigi cringed submissively. "Sorry," he said again, "but I didn't really assault you."

"You've assaulted me with your words and your face!" Wario barked. "Now get out of here and stop wasting my time!"

Luigi gazed at Wario a moment longer before he reluctantly moved out the door.

* * *

The floorboards of the studio squeaked under Luigi's feet as he paced back and forth in the dark. His steps were rapid, and the studio was not built for walking, so his feet only hit the floor five times before he abruptly spun and struggled in the other direction. His breath was quick and heavy. He felt as though he were boiling alive.

 _Mario. Mario. Mario._ Sleep was the furthest thing from Luigi's mind. Mario was lost. If Luigi's hands were crippled and he could never work again, if the town were buried in a landslide, if one day the sun suddenly winked out, none of those things would be nearly as catastrophic. He was convinced all of them would be bearable if Mario were by his side. But now… What would he do? The prospect of a future without Mario was too frightening to even comprehend. To even consider _considering_ it was like staring into a dark void. Instead, Luigi's brain was bombarded of thoughts of where Mario was right now. Was he still outside? Was he hungry? Cold? Had he managed to catch a ride? Was he injured? Was he sick?

Against his will, Luigi remembered the huge cloaked silhouette on the tavern wall. He heard Waluigi's voice hissing with a mouth-watering relish: _"No matter how many heroes the king sent, the beast devoured them all…"_

Luigi was unprepared for this new fear, but once it manifested, he knew he would never shake it. All alone in the woods with no carriage and no help in sight, Mario would be easy prey for the beast. No matter how much Luigi tried to stamp down the burning in his stomach with cries of "It's not real! It's not real! Mario said it's not real!" the fear flared. Luigi felt as cold as though it were himself soaked in the rain and not his brother.

Luigi collapsed to his knees on the studio floor and buried his face in his hands. He knew that to wait a week was impossible. He would surely go mad before that time. Luigi squeezed his knuckles against his closed eyes, as though trying to push some peace back in.

His hands flopped into his lap as he opened his eyes. They looked so empty, no inadequate. Sitting here, Luigi knew, would accomplish nothing. He had to move. His eyes moved back and forth as his mind churned, groping for an answer.

A few minutes later, Luigi was in the kitchen, pushing aside the heavy wood table. He rolled up the rug underneath and slid his fingers through the hole in the unveiled trap door. Lifting the lid revealed the metal door of a safe. Luigi's fingers grasped the dial as he recited the combination under his breath.

* * *

Much later, Popple finally stepped from the tavern back into the cold night. Over the past few hours, the herds inside had gradually trickled out until only a few tables stood occupied in the dim lantern light. Those remaining made it their business to be three times as loud to make up for the absence of their fellows.

In yet another few hours, Waluigi would finally be forced to chase the last few stragglers out, but Popple had opted to leave before that scene unfolded. It was one he had witnessed a few times, and it had groan dull through repetition.

The contents of his large burlap sack clattered as he dragged it along the street, whistling a cheery tune. The wind whipped the stray drops from the churning fountain onto the cobblestone as Popple left the square and headed jauntily into the darkened street.

The whistle quickly changed to a strangled "Oof!" as something soft and heavy slammed into him. All the wind was knocked from his chest as tumbled onto the street. Someone was pinning him down. "What the-? Get off!" he shrieked.

"Shh!" hissed Luigi. "Be quiet!"

Popple looked up and saw Luigi's face above him in the dark. "You again!" he snarled. He kicked himself free. "What are you, some kind of lunatic? Back off or I'll thrash you, see?"

"No!" Luigi cried. "Don't run! I'm not going to hurt you!"

"You expect me to believe that! Boo! Boo, I say!" Popple gathered up his bag and made to run, but Luigi reached into his pocket and tossed something at Popple.

Popple thought at first that a rain of pebbles had stung his face, but as he whirled on Luigi with gnashed teeth, he saw a handful of gold coins glittering on the street in front of him. "Wha-?"

"There's more!" said Luigi hastily, "if you'll just hear me out!"

Popple kept his narrowed eyes focused on Luigi as he reached down to pick up the coins. "What's this about?" he asked.

"I want your help," said Luigi. "Please, help me find my brother!"

Popple scowled. "You're outta your head!" he said. He turned to leave.

Luigi ran and placed himself in front of Popple. "Please! He's out there somewhere, and you're the only one who knows where he might be! You have to take me to look for him!"

"I don't do charity," said Popple. "If you're so worried about him, then find him yourself!" He tried to start around Luigi, but Luigi again cut him off.

"I've never been to the woods by myself!" Luigi cried. "I wouldn't even know where to start!"

"That's not my problem," Popple snapped. He charged past Luigi, irritated.

"I'll pay you!" Luigi shouted.

Popple turned, one eyebrow lifted under his hat. More coins were glittering in Luigi's outstretched hand.

"I don't care about money or about anything you stole. I won't ask for any of it back. I only want my brother home."

Popple turned. "I ain't interested in dragging you through the forest, see? If you're really serious about this, it'll cost you at least five-thousand coins or…"

"Six-thousand!"

Popple stared. Luigi's expression was earnest.

"In advance," he said. "And, if we find Mario, I'll double it."

Popple blinked. Slowly, his grin returned. "Gee, you're really desperate, huh? Okay, greenie, I guess you can be reasonable after all!" Popple stepped forward and poked the tip of Luigi's nose. "But, if this brother of yours is so important to you, then we should make it seven-thousand! Up front. Money is no object, see?"

Luigi flinched. But, he sighed. "Alright," he said, "seven-thousand up front, fourteen-thousand if we find him. I don't have that much right now, but I'll pay you the rest when I get it."

Popple giggled. "Fourteen thousand! Fourteen grand! Hey, this could be the start of a beautiful partnership! What'd you say your name was again?"

"Luigi."

Popple was in a better mood than he'd been alright. "Luigi, eh? Alright! Meet me at the entrance to the woods at dawn tomorrow, and we'll set off! And bring the money with you! I don't want you thinking you can get work out of me for free, see?"

"Of course!" Luigi agreed. His chest already felt lighter. "You'll get what I promised you!"

Popple couldn't stop giggling. He was giddy as a child awaiting Santa's arrival. "I really misjudged you, Luigi! You're alright, see?" He gathered up his bag and saluted Luigi. "Get a good night's sleep, princess! You'll need it!"

Popple scurried off down the blackened street. Luigi turned, his face set. "Hang on, Mario," he said quietly. "I'll bring you home."

* * *

 **AN:**

 _Guess who finished_ Bowser's Inside Story? _This girl! I'd heard from a friend that that game was excellent, and he was right! I also unlocked Luigi and Daisy in_ Smash Ultimate, _so that game is basically "The Luigi and Daisy Game" now._

 _I found myself wondering if the things Waluigi does to Luigi in this chapter are too mean. But, I had to get Luigi involved in Waluigi's story somehow. Having him placidly on the sidelines was not an option. It's always better to have your characters participate in something directly. Of course, Luigi has no problem with crossdressing itself. It's only this particular context that made it humiliating._

 _Wario's here! Of course, you can't have Waluigi without Wario (or, at least, that's what Nintendo decided). If you're wondering who in their right mind would make Wario police inspector, I suspect that Wario has connections._ Warioware Gold _has taught me that Wario is surprisingly good at making and keep friends, despite the fact that he sucks._

 _Attentive readers might have spotted Podley behind the bar at Waluigi's tavern. There he is, wiping that one glass for all eternity, never managing to remember what a mailbox is. He's very devoted to his job, that one._

 _Your reviews are delicious! Keep sending them in! Ciao!_


	4. No Matter What

**Chapter Four: No Matter What**

Popple rounded the curve in the road. Dried mud clung to the cuffs of his pants and flaked away with each stride like the leaves from the trees above. A single orb of lantern light illuminated the underside of the decaying branches, causing the shadows to swing like pendulums as the lantern rocked in Popple's outstretched hand.

Popple turned and saw nobody. "Shake a leg, will ya?" he barked.

He heard Luigi gasping before he saw him, laboring around the turn as though his own body were an intolerable burden. "Sorry," he said between gasps, not for the first time that day.

Popple snorted as Luigi struggled up to him. The rim of his cloak had taken on layers of muck that splattered up its train like paint over a smock. If Luigi hadn't been walking since dawn, the extra weight of the soil would have been negligible, but now it was as if he had a weight pulling back against his throat like a dog collar.

"Pathetic." Popple turned and resumed his stroll. Luigi gazed wearily as the lantern light danced away from him yet again. "I hope your brother ain't as slow as you. Otherwise, he'd definitely be monster chow by now, see?"

"Please, don't say that," said Luigi anxiously. He clutched his ribcage, cringing. There was a definite tearing sensation there, seemingly lying in the gaps between his bones.

"Boo! Boo, I say!" Popple snapped. "I've been takin' care of you all day, so I'll say what I want to, see?"

Luigi was in too much agony to say anything, but he thought Popple was being slightly unfair. Popple had received the promised seven-thousand coins with grasping fingers but had been dismayed when it came time for the pair to stop for food and water and he'd discovered that Luigi had brought no other money. Luigi had been caught off guard by Popple's angry and onlooker-attracting tirades in which the words "swindler" and "free-loader" were frequently uttered. After all, Popple had only said to bring the seven-thousand, and that was precisely what Luigi had done. Yet, Popple seemed to be suffering from some grand injustice as he dipped his hand into the bag of seven-thousand to pay for meals for the both of them. He had frequently reminded Luigi, as they were sitting down to plates that seemed lopsided in Popple's favor, and as they were leaving, and two hours later on the road alone, that Luigi owed Popple for forcing him to pay out of his own pocket. This didn't sound right to Luigi. He had given Popple the money, so wasn't he technically paying for the food? Still, Luigi had kept his peace. After begging as he had, he knew better than to criticize his guide.

And, it was true that Popple had been helpful. The many roads through the forest comprised a maze marked and forks by unhelpful signs with most of the pain eroded by wind, rain, and time. Often had Luigi found himself staring at the signposts at a loss while Popple was already taking several confident steps toward the road on the left or right or somewhat to the left of two o'clock. Poppled bragged to Luigi, in between berating him for his slowness and clumsiness and giving him "friendly reminders" of what he would owe him afterward, that he knew the forest like the back of his hand. And, it seemed to Luigi to be true.

Popple had unwittingly given him a surge of hope at the last inn they stopped when he commented, "This is where I first saw your brother." His heart felt even lighter when the gently smiling innkeeper confirmed it. They were on the right track. Luigi thought about warning the innkeeper that Popple was a thief, but that was a conversation that could wait. Mario came first.

That had been an hour ago, and now, even as Luigi trudged through the clay-like road, he felt more asleep than awake. A turnkey only has so many spins before it reaches the end and gradually winds to a stop. The notes of the tinkling song become discordant as the space between each stretches, the painted figures slow by rapid degrees, their charming energy seeping away before your eyes as the gears that give them life creak to a halt. Luigi had always been disheartened at the sight of one of his works straining against inactivity in this way. Now, he felt that he himself was the figure in the box, struggling to keep moving even as the gears compelling him froze. He could feel his body groaning in protest against its own limitations.

His eyes were down on the road ahead of him. It was more solid now, but it still retained the rainwater that had soaked into like a sponge. His shoes lifted with a soft sucking sound with each step. The mud certainly looked soft. It reminded him of soft dough, kneaded against floury palms. Luigi contemplated falling down into it, feeling himself sink into it as though it were goose down. Surely only a minute wouldn't hurt.

"Hey! Greenie! Over here!"

Luigi lifted his eyes and saw the lantern, farther ahead that he had thought, and a thin, striped arm flashing in and out of the orb of light.

"Move it! Come and have a looksee, see?"

Luigi made his way over to Popple as quickly as he could manage. He looked down as Popple cast the lantern over a series of pits and valleys carved into the mud.

Luigi's fatigue was no longer important. He moved his eyes over the marks in the road eagerly. Cutting diagonally across the road were a series of long trenches made by thick boots dragging themselves through the mud before stopping and lifting to be set down and dragged again. Luigi placed his own shoe into the hollow. He felt only a slight resistance on either side of his boot. His own feet could have made those channels.

"He was here," Luigi sighed.

"Looks like it," said Popple. He followed the tracks up the road to a place where the mud had been stirred violently. "Must've landed here," he said, "then made his way this way to get out of the rain."

Luigi watched Popple circling over the splattered earth like a dog. _Landed here._ Luigi imagined Mrio tumbling out of the carriage into the muck. He imagined splashing and floundering as the carriage sped away, leaving him deserted. The man who had done that to Mario was here in front of him, speaking of such things without a trace of guilt.

But, this wasn't the time for anger. Right now it was as unimportant as the rest of Luigi's aches and pains.

Popple crossed back in front of Luigi, following the cannals dug in the road. He came to the edge of the trees.

"No doubt about it," said Popple. "He definitely went in there."

Luigi joined Popple to peer into the trees. The tracks curved and slipped into the thicket, out of sight. The hollow into which they vanished was completely black. Popple's lantern only revealed a few details: a thick root smeared with mud, a broken twig dangling by a single fiber from a bush, the first foot or so of a carpet strewn with damp leaves. These things retreated quickly from sight and dissolved into the black.

Something moved in the thicket. He heard a furtive crunch of leaves, the rustle of a branch settling back into place, then nothing. Just a quick dart through a leafy sea then nothing. Luigi pulled his cloak closer to his shoulders, shuddering.

Popple peered a moment more, then turned away. "Well," he said, "See ya!"

"Wait!" Luigi shouted as Popple set off down the road. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the inn!" said Popple. "You wanted me to take you to where I saw him, and that's what I did!"

"No, you can't!" Luigi grabbed Popple's arm, which Popple quickly yanked away with an offended look. "The deal was you help me find Mario!"

"You expect me to go in there? Boo! Boo, I say! You know how I stayed in business long enough to become the Legendary Shadow Thief? Here's how: I don't do stupid things like wandering into a forest crawling with monsters with a _dead weight_ at my heels!"

Luigi was unaware that Popple held any such title, and he also smarted at the barb, but he didn't comment on either. What he said instead was: "I can't go in there alone, and we're not leaving without Mario! I told you I'd pay you the rest when we find him! If I don't come back, then you can't get paid!"

Popple gnashed his teeth in frustration. Annoyed as he was, he couldn't deny Luigi's logic.

"Look you," he said, "I'll have a hard enough time watching my own back without worrying about babysitting you, see? Do you even have a weapon?"

"I have this." Luigi reached into his cloak and drew out a small hammer, one that he'd used many times to hammer into boards still fragrant with sawdust.

"A hammer," said Popply flatly. Luigi blushed.

"Sorry, we don't really have guns or anything," he said sheepishly. "It seemed like the best choice."

Popple sighed and shook his head. "Well, it's better than nothing, I guess. Alright, have it your way, Greenie. We'll go in. But!" Popple jabbed a finger in Luigi's face. "This ain't a stroll in the park we're talking about, see? If I decide you're a liability, I'm leaving you behind! I ain't sticking my neck out for a drip like you! If you can't keep up, you're nothing but meat, capisce?"

"Um, it's _capisci."_

"What's that?"

"You said it wrong. It's pronounced _capisci."_

Luigi could actually hear Popple's teeth grinding. _"Arrrgh!_ Who cares? You want to head into the forest or don't you?"

"I do. I'm sorry!"

Popple turned and headed into the thicket, grumbling. Luigi followed, ducking his head under the low-hanging branches.

The darkness within the forest was total. Above the road, there had at least been a stream of starry sky flowing above their heads, but here the branches congealed beneath the sky, sealing them within a black canopy. Without the stars, without the road, and without even his own eyes, Luigi's only means of navigation was to follow the glow of lantern over the roots and around the trunks and over all the dips and uneven terrain of the forest floor. But, even following was proving to be difficult as Luigi's legs seemed determined to snag and catch on every single thing that was even remotely near him. Fronds brushed back the fabric of his pants, sharp branches poked at his arms and cheeks, and he was constantly knocking his forehead into branches that Popple had been able to pass under easily.

At the very least, Popple now had to pick his way carefully over the forest floor and thus was moving at a much more reasonable pace.

Popple moved his lantern over a large branch that had been snapped in half by the heel of a boot.

"Well," he said, "the good news is your brother's easy to track. Bad news is the whole forest probably heard him, what with him crashing around like an elephant-"

Just then, there was a loud crash. Popple jumped and turned to see Luigi lying face down on the forest floor. His right foot was curled awkwardly around a tree root that arced above the soil. Luigi lifted his face.

"Again?" Popple asked.

"Sorry," said Luigi again. He stood, brushing the dirt from his mustache.

"Sheesh," said Popple, as he turned back. "I've run into some sad sacks in my time, but you're a whole new level of hopeless. I wish it had been you I'd run into at the inn instead of your crazy brother."

Luigi winced and kept following with his head down.

However, Luigi had only taken a few steps when he heard a soft rustle coming from below. Luigi's own feet were shuffling through the wet leaves, but it wasn't that. Luigi stopped. The feet firmly pressed the leaves into the soil, but the rustle continued, quiet as a whisper.

"Hey, I hear something," said Luigi.

Popple snorted without stopping. "If we start stopping every time you hear something, it's gonna be a long night."

"No, really, what is that?"

Popple heaved up a long-suffering sigh and turned around. "It's probably just a- _YIKE!"_

Luigi stared, shocked at Popple's gaping expression. Popple's head was slowly tilting upward as though being pulled by a string until he was staring at a spot well over Luigi's head. Before Luigi could process this properly. He felt something warm and thick splash onto his left ear. He slapped his hand to the spot, and his glove gave away sticky. He looked up.

Grinning down at him and salivating between its white, gleaming teeth was a huge Piranha Plant, the thick vine supporting its bulbous coiling upward like a serpent.

Luigi was too terrified even to scream. He simply stared, his eyes riveted to that dripping, rumbling mouth as it flash Luigi what was unmistakably a grin and lunged.

Luigi's arm was nearly yanked out of its socket as something violently jerked him back by his elbow. The Piranha Plant's teeth closed around a massive mouthful of dirt and leaves, which dribbled out in a foul cascade as it snarled irritably. Luigi looked back and saw Popple tugging on his arm.

"Don't just stand there!" he was shouting. "Move it!"

Popple was suddenly whipped upward with a shriek. In the next instance, Luigi found that he, too, was airborne. He felt the forest spinning around him as his leg was swept out from beneath him, and his cloak was suddenly flapping against the back of his head. He looked around for Popple and saw that he too was hanging upside down by one ankle. Luigi could see the curve of the thick vine holding Popple aloft and felt the bite of a similar vine in his own ankle.

His hat fluttered to the earth below as he screamed.

"No! No, no, no!" he jabbered. There was nothing in his head more coherent than that. That single, protesting shriek swelled and filled his whole soul.

The terrain above his head teemed. More Piranha Plants were rustling in the brush as they stretched upwards toward the dangling prey. Their lips parted, and their jaws creaked open to reveal glowing embers popping in the backs of their throats. Luigi and Popple were surrounded by the glow of many torches flaring amongst the trees like infernal ornaments.

Luigi had stopped screaming and was now whimpering, but the lantern was still swinging from the end of Popple's flailing arm. Popple craned his neck to see the closest head leering at them as it stretched up from the forest floor. Popple waited until the red dome was right beneath them before he threw the lantern with all his might.

The glass case burst, and a stream of oil flowed through the gaps and onto the Piranha Plant's head. The tiny flame tumbled out after, and soon the Plant was alight. Its entire shrieked and writhed as Popple and Luigi tumbled back to the ground.

Luigi snatched his cap as he scrambled to his feet. "Nice one!" he said.

Popple brushed the dirt from his clothes. "These Piranha Plants are only fireproof on the inside, see? The outside burns just like any other plant." He folded his arms and grinned smugly. "Pretty stupid, see? But what else can you expect from a plant?"

Suddenly, a fireball landed on Popple's beret. It bloomed rapidly into a crown of flame. Popple shrieked, whipped the hat off, and began beating it violently against the ground.

"Stupid! Lousy! Weed!" he whined with each whack.

Luckily, the flare of the Piranha Plants created enough light for Luigi to see the huge set of jaws barreling toward them. "Move!" he cried.

He leapt to the side. Popple staggered back as the trunk of the Piranha Plant flowed between them. The chin of the Plant slid along the ground as the trunk curved toward Luigi. Its lips rippled as it snarled.

Luigi suddenly remembered the hammer and pulled it out of his belt. The Piranha Plant was certainly a large target. Luigi swung frantically, whacking the monster's head from every angle. The head of hammer bounced after every impact with a strange, spongey feel. The Plant's head barely moved with each blow, and it certainly didn't slow down.

"Popple!" Luigi cried. "Help me!"

Popple didn't appear in any hurry to come to the rescue. He was backing away from the trunk that separated Luigi and himself with a calculating expression.

Popple felt a hot wind blowing against the back of his head. He darted away in time to avoid being swallowed whole but not quickly enough to escape the jaws closing around his ankle. The Piranha Plant tossed him into the air with a flick of its head. Luigi had seen dogs pull moves like that.

"Popple!" Luigi called.

Luigi couldn't bear to watch but felt he shouldn't look away as Popple plummeted, flailing, toward the Piranha Plant's waiting jaws. Popple's limbs flew out wildly in every direction before his hand caught a particularly long tooth protruding from the Plant's top lip. The Plant snapped its jaws shut an instant after Popple managed to heft himself out of its mouth and begin his tumble down the back of its trunk.

Luigi's relief was short lived as he caught once last glimpse of Popple's back, lit in orange as it retreated into the tree cover.

"Wait!" Luigi pleaded. "Don't leave me here!"

Popple was already out of sight, but he heard his voice sounding from the darkness. _"You're on your own, Greenie!"_

The slithering Piranha Plant licked its lips as it crawled toward Luigi. That tongue looked bigger than Luigi's torso. Luigi shuddered as he brandished the hammer in front of himself, not daring to look away.

Something heavy slammed into Luigi's stomach. No, not heavy, something strong. Luigi gasped as a thick vine wrapped around his midsection and yanked him back. He fell onto his back, and as the vine dragged him across the floor, the head of another Piranha Plant came into his field of view. Luigi grabbed the vine encircling his stomach and shoved down against with all his strength in the vague hope of sliding it off him, but it embedded itself into his belly mercilessly. He gasped. With every breath, he could pull less and less air into his lungs.

Luigi felt the warmth of a campfire wash over him. He looked and saw the unmistakable glow building in the mouth of the Piranha Plant at his feet. The head above was creeping closer, the head below was ready to roast him. Death was closing in on both sides.

Luigi's next actions came to him in a flash that was too quick to even be called thought. It was the last surge from a brain desperate to save itself. Luigi took the hammer in his head and quickly spun it so he was clutching the head and not the handle. With a burst of effort, he strained against his bounds just far enough to shove the handle down the back of the lower Plant's throat.

The Plant choked and coughed in surprise and outrage as the handle was set alight. Luigi heaved the hammer back out of its mouth, feeling its teeth grind against the wood, and, without looking, jabbed it into the air just behind his head. He felt the end of the handle collide with something large and spongey as a monstrous wail filled his ears. The vine around his stomach spasmed and dropped, flicking around his legs. Luigi kicked himself free and stood, brandishing his new torch with shaking hands.

The Piranha Plants surrounding him shrank back with meek trills. Luigi swung the end of the torch slowly outward, pointing it at each flower in turn. The plants undulated in the air. Luigi could hear them, feel them creeping closer when they were in darkness, but as soon as the orange light of his torch fell over them, they drooped, cowed.

Luigi slowly backed out of the clearing, keeping the flame at arm's length. Each time he heard a Plant stretching after him, he waved the light forward, and the head fell back. They crooned plaintively as edges of the light slipped over their heads, and Luigi had the bizarre sense that they were calling for him to return as his circle of light left them behind.

Luigi stopped, breathing hard. The only slithering sounds he heard emerged from the darkness ahead of him. The forest surrounding him on all sides was silent.

Luigi abruptly turned and ran deeper into the forest. The Piranha Plants, the road, and Popple were all to his back as he scrambled over the uneven ground.

Of course, he didn't get far before he plowed right through a shrub that reached higher than his waist. The tangle of branches and poking leaves snagged the momentum of his lower half, sending him sprawling to the ground. He felt the ground ram and scrape against the skin of his forearms. The torch rolled to his side and went out.

Luigi lay there, propped up on his arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of his clothes. Luigi hadn't needed Popple to tell him he was hopeless. He already knew. He was alone in the dark. Popple, for all he'd been worth, was gone. He'd barely survived the Piranha Plants. And even if they weren't in the way, he'd never be able to find his way back, and he'd never be able to find his way forward. He would wander through this forest in circle for the rest of his life, so close to his brother and yet so far.

Luigi suppressed the instinct to call out for his brother. Even now, some childish part of him was still expecting Mario to come riding out of nowhere and save him, just as he had done when they were boys. This had been his one chance to pay Mario back for all he'd done. And he'd messed it up.

Luigi felt his eyes sting. He propped himself up to wipe his eyes, and as he did, he saw a stone wall through the trees ahead of him.

Luigi stared. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but he definitely saw the gleam of gray stone behind the black of the trees. The wall shone with some hidden starlight. Luigi pushed himself to his feet and hurried forward.

Luigi pressed his fingers to the grainy stone. It was real. The wall encircled the open sky, and Luigi gazed gratefully at the stars that peeked over the rim. The path at the edge of the trees gleamed in their silver light. Luigi looked and saw the unmistakable shape of footprints, left to dry in the days that had passed. His heart pounding, Luigi pressed his foot into one of the prints. It was a perfect match.

Luigi hurried beside the tracks, not daring to disturb them anymore. His brother had been circling this wall. His brother had stayed in the view of the sky as he walked along it to…

A gate.

And behind that gate?

Luigi looked and felt an ice cold fear seize him. _No! No, it couldn't be!_

It could. Luigi gaped at the castle across the courtyard and realized his own imagination had failed him. Many times had he tossed and turned with nightmares about the castle in the forest and the beast contained within, but every one of those night terrors utterly paled in comparison to the real thing. Never had Luigi seen such a twisted structure. It seemed to be covered not in statues and spires but in growths and distorted limbs. The castle itself was a monster, just as surely as the creature that dwelled within.

Luigi felt a sensation like a cold blade plunging into his chest and stomach. He sucked in deep ragged breaths, willing himself not to vomit. Even as cold venom seeped through his veins, he felt his brain burning. His thoughts raced. Mario was in there. Mario was already dead. The beast could seem him. It was watching him from the windows. Any moment he'd be dead, too.

 _Stop that,_ Luigi told himself. _Stop that right now._ _You don't get to do that now._ Panicking was all well and good when it was Luigi himself in danger. But now that Mario's life was at stake, he no longer had that luxury. He concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out, letting the shudders pass through him. The beast had not killed him. Nothing had killed him. If he were still alive, then Mario might still be alive.

Luigi looked in again at the castle. Waluigi's story raced through his mind. Was there any hope at all? All the men the king had sent to slay the beast had perished. But, Luigi wasn't here to slay anything. He was only here for his brother.

Would that be enough?

It would have to be.

It wasn't long before Luigi found the tree. He hoisted himself up.

* * *

They heard him before they saw him, a lone voice echoing through the castle vaults. "Hello? Mario? Are you in here?"

Luigi didn't see them as he stepped into their view. He didn't know what to look for. "Look," whispered the first, "there he is."

"Not another one," moaned the second. "I can't watch this again."

"Say, he looks a lot like the one in the tower," said the third.

Luigi turned. "Is someone there?" he called.

Luigi approached the end table standing against the wall. It was covered in a thin layer of dust, decorated here and there by circles and rings of polished surface. Sitting on the table was a candle in a winged candleholder and a pink enamel pitcher. A footstool had been pushed underneath the table.

Luigi looked around nervously. He could have sworn he heard voices coming from this direction, but there was no one in sight. Perhaps the sound had echoed from somewhere else?

Luigi moved away. If he had returned to this room even a moment later, he would have seen that the candle was now gone.

Luigi hadn't had the faintest idea of where to start looking, so he head veered to the left of the giant staircase. He second-guessed every single turn he made, and he walked through every door convinced he had chosen the wrong one. He could trek all over this castle for days and still not see all of it. He knew he couldn't expect Mario to be lurking behind any random door or behind any ornate chair, but the Beast could. He knew each step he took could be his last.

He stepped back into the hall and craned his eyes upward toward the enormous vaulted ceiling. Strange, macabre creatures curled around every corner even high above him, glaring down at him with glittering stone eyes. With the high, cold walls all around him and the monsters writhing above him, Luigi felt as though he were underwater, not inside a building. He remembered the last castle he'd sold, how the girl with the fishtail swam behind the castle walls amidst the reach plants and fluttering fish. That was him, now. Trapped in a place where the cold filled his mouth and throat.

He was coming up to another door on his right, the panels crisscrossed with carved, floral patterns. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up just as they had with every door he'd opened as he pushed the heavy door inward.

"Mario?" he called.

A sound touched his ear, and his entire frame jolted. It took him a moment to realize that the sound wasn't fangs tearing into his neck, as he'd been sure it was, but something soft falling to the floor. It had landed behind him, in the hallway. Luigi pulled his head out of the doorway and turned back to look.

Mario's cap was lying on the floor.

Luigi ran to where the cap lay and seized it. He kneaded it between his fingers, feeling the familiar fabric. There was no mistaking that feel, that shape, that color. There was also no mistaking the fact that it hadn't been here a second ago.

Luigi clutched the hat to his chest and looked up. He was kneeling in the corner where the hallway veered sharply to the left. There, just a little further down, he saw a door creak open. A small warm light was shining from within the darkened room.

"Hello?" Luigi called. "Who's there?"

The light moved away.

"Wait!" Luigi pulled himself up and raced to the open door. "Did you leave this here? Do you know where my brother is?"

He seized the door handle and yanked himself inside. He saw the edge of the light hovering through the door on the opposite side of the room.

"Please! Don't go!" Luigi cried. But the light was moving out of sight.

Luigi sprinted into the next room, looking around wildly for the one who held the light. He was surprised to see a section of the wall behind a sofa swing outward on hidden hinge. The light was fading behind it.

Luigi pushed the sofa aside and squeezed himself behind the panel. He found himself in a narrow tunnel. The light was already at the other side, pulling around the corner.

Luigi ran after it. In this closed space, he could see the flickering of the light against the wooden walls, and he could smell the wax melting. It didn't occur to him wonder why he didn't hear a single footstep as his guide moved through the castle. The hat clutched in his hands blocked out all rational thought.

Luigi emerged from behind another panel in a different wall. He saw the light moving up the narrow staircase through the doorway on the other side.

The staircase spiraled up through the white, stone tower, and Luigi felt the same tear opening along his ribs as he struggled to keep up with the candle flame. As always, the flame and its bearer were always just around the next corner. Luigi had had dreams like this, where he ran toward a thing that never got any closer. Perhaps it was only his own exhaustion that gave rise to the hope that he would simply wake up in his own home and turn his head to see Mario sleeping in the bed across from his.

Instead, he arrived at a landing.

He looked around, as his head emerged step by step over the floor. He was in a dark and dismal chamber. He had only caught brief glances of the cells behind the inspector's desk back in the village, but that was all the reference he needed to know he was in a dungeon. Heavy steel doors stood before gaping caverns lined with iron-gray stone. The only light that illuminated the dripping walls was a single candle sitting on a sparse wooden table.

"Where'd they go?" Out of breath as he was, the words were no more than a whisper.

But then: "Luigi?"

Words are inadequate to describe the joy, the relief, the light that washed over Luigi at the sound of that voice. "Mario!" he cried.

The nearest cell door stood at such an angle that Luigi couldn't see the man inside it, but now, as he ran to the door, he saw a plump, mustached face appear at the foot of the bars.

Luigi dropped to his knees and grasped the hand that encircled the bars.

"Mario! You're here! You're alive!" Luigi's eyes were glossy. The two pairs of hands fluttered frantically over the bars, desperate to touch one another.

"What do you think you're doing here, Luigi? How did you find me?" There was no reprimand in Mario's tone. Only happiness and amazement. He looked as though Luigi had suddenly revealed some hidden talent, some secret expertise that he had hitherto neglected to tell Mario about.

"Never mind that!" said Luigi. "We need to get you out of there!"

He stood, but Mario did not stand with him. Luigi looked down and saw a huge, dark stain spread over Mario's right pant leg.

"Mario! You're hurt!"

Mario grimaced. "I'll live," he said, "but we need to hurry. Grab the key!"

"Where is it?"

"It has to be here somewhere. Look around!"

Luigi hurried to the table and grabbed the winged candle holder. He hastily cast the light around the room. The candle flame fell over a rusted key hanging from a nail on the wall.

"I see it!" Luigi called.

"Good! Hurry, Luigi!"

Luigi quickly set the candle down and pushed a rickety wooden chair over to the wall. He jumped onto it and reached up to grab the key.

He could feel the rust scraping onto his gloved fingertips as something seized his outstretched arm in a rough, vicelike grip. He felt sharp talons piercing the flesh on his arms as he was dragged off the chair and thrown violently to the ground. The key slipped through his fingers and clattered to the stone floor. Luigi could hear Mario crying out in anger and alarm as a scaled hand reached out and plucked the key off the floor.

Luigi pulled himself backwards, his eyes locked on the shadow moving in the corner of the dungeon. "It's you," he whispered hoarsely.

The Beast turned the key in its hand, as if considering it.

"How did you get up here?" it asked.

The voice was low and hollow. It was also a woman's voice. Luigi had not been expecting that. The beast had declared itself king, Waluigi had said. Of all the details to get wrong…

"Answer me," she whispered.

Luigi shrank back. In the lurid candlelight, he could see little except an outline of orange scales and blue, glinting eyes.

"I… I found my way here," Luigi stammered, "on my own."

The Beast's eyes narrowed. She moved closer. Luigi recoiled. He found himself at the edge of Mario's cell. Mario reached a hand out to grasp Luigi's shoulder. The warmth anchored him.

"I know you're lying," she said. "Is there someone you're trying to protect?"

Mario noticed the way the Beast's eyes flicked briefly toward the candle sitting on the table, but Luigi did not. He only swallowed.

"I don't want any trouble," he said. "I only came to find my brother."

"Your brother belongs to me," the Beast said coldly. "There is nothing for you here."

"Please! You have to let him go! He needs a doctor! Can't you see he's hurt?"

"That's his own fault!" the Beast snarled. "He should consider himself lucky he's only a prisoner and not a corpse!"

Luigi shivered. The Beast regarded the trembling man at her feet with contempt.

"Your precious brother came here to try and kill me," she said. "Did you know that?"

Luigi stared back at her, stunned. "For the last time, that's not true!" Mario yelled.

"You expect me to believe that?" the Beast roared. "So many men have come here over the years, fancying themselves to be glorious heroes if they can only bring back my head. Your brother is no different from any of those other idiots."

"You're wrong!"

The words had come out louder, perhaps, than Luigi would have liked. The Beast blinked in surprise, shocked that this cowering, mud-splattered man would dare raise his voice to her.

"Wrong, am I?" she whispered.

Luigi heard the danger in her voice, and his gaze lowered to the floor. Still, he spoke. "Mario isn't like that. He's a merchant, that's all. He only came to your castle because his horse was stolen. He just wanted shelter from the rain! He means you no harm."

"I'd like to do her a little harm," Mario muttered.

"Mario, please! You're not helping!" Luigi shouted.

Luigi turned back to the Beast. "I know people have hurt you in the past," he said, "but I swear on my life Mario is innocent!"

The Beast gazed down at Luigi. Her face was inscrutable in the low light.

"Be that as it may," she said, "he trespassed in my home. He attacked and wounded me. These are serious crimes. Someone has to take the punishment."

The Beast turned, as if that settled the matter. Luigi saw her serpentine form coiling as she began to move away.

"Wait!"

A single eye gleamed. "What?" she asked.

Luigi had called without knowing what he'd say next. All he'd known was that his brother's only chance for freedom was leaving. His mind flailed wildly for some solution, some suggestion, anything that would get Mario out of here. "What if…"

Suddenly, it came to him. "What if it was me?" he asked.

The tail slid in an arc across the floor, and now both eyes were on him. "What do you mean?" said the voice in the darkness.

The full weight of what Luigi was doing came down upon him, but he kept his voice steady. "You said someone had to take the punishment," he said. "What if it was me?"

"Luigi…" Luigi had never heard Mario say his name like that. "What are you doing?"

Luigi made the mistake of glancing at Mario's fearful face. That look seared him to the core. He returned his gaze to the floor.

"You would take his place?" the Beast whispered. _"You?"_

This was the first thing Luigi had said or done that had taken her aback.

"No!" Mario cried. "Don't do this!" It was impossible to tell who the supplication had been meant for, the man or the Beast.

"Yes." Luigi's voice was a strangled whisper. "I'll be your prisoner if you'll only let him go."

The Beast was silent. Luigi heard the silence roaring in his ears. "Look at me," she finally said.

"What?"

"I said, look at me!"

Trembling, Luigi raised his eyes. Before this moment, she had kept to the shadows, ringed only in the faintest haze of light, but now she emerged fully, and Luigi saw her, her form uncurling in the light of a single flame. He saw the light flashing over the thick, burnt scales, saw it gleaming over the dark horns and dripping from the jagged teeth, saw it glinting off the point of the talons as they dug into the stone and saw it pooling in the blue of her livid eyes.

Luigi gave a small cry and pressed his forehead to the cold bars. The Beast's features twisted in anger.

"You can't even bring yourself to look me in the face!" she said. "You honestly expect me to believe you'll stay here?"

Luigi felt a warm hand cradling his cheek. He looked up to see Mario smiling at him. Mario believed he knew Luigi's limits, and so his smile was relieved.

"It's okay, Luigi," he said. "I'll be alright."

Luigi closed his eyes.

"I promise," he said. "I'll stay here for the rest of my life."

Luigi felt the hand on his cheek clench. "No!" Mario whispered.

The Beast was still. "Alright, then," she said. Luigi felt the air stir on the back of his neck as she slithered behind him.

The cell door swung open, and Luigi tumbled into Mario's arms.

Mario's hands clenched Luigi's shoulders. His eyes blazed.

"Luigi, what do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry, Mario," said Luigi.

"Tell her that you changed your mind! Tell her-!"

Mario's words were cut off with a cry of pain as the Beast seized him and dragged him across the floor. Every inch of stone that scraped across his leg brought a new jolt of agony.

"Mario!" Luigi cried.

Mario's hands slapped futilely against the Beast's grip. "Get off me!" he shouted. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. "I won't go!"

"Mario!"

The cell door slammed shut. Luigi watched as the struggling, writhing form of his brother was dragged down the staircase out of sight. The red cap was still in his hand, and he clutched it to his chest as he knelt with his head bowed in the cell that was now his.

* * *

Far below, in the rear of the castle, stood a broken carriage. Its wheels were gone; its harness was gone. Whatever horse or horses had once stood before it had long since died. Leaves blew across the cold cobblestone where it sat, its windows dark and empty.

It was toward this antique ruin, this sad derelict, that the Beast dragged Mario.

Mario frantic struggles had gradually slowed and stopped and now he only clutched the hand of the Beast that held him.

"Please," he was saying, "don't do this. I'll stay here. I'll do whatever you want."

The door of the carriage swung open as they approached. The Beast slid Mario onto its floor as she would have any other package. Her eyes met Mario's as she stood framed in the doorway.

"If you ever come back here," she said, "I'll kill him first."

Mario's eyes were just beginning to widen in horror as she slammed the door.

She spoke in a low whisper that nobody was around to hear.

"Find a doctor in the village."

The wooden trim along the bottom of the carriage cracked and popped in the way of long unused joints. The paneling unfolded and clattered onto the stone, and four spindly, arachnid legs pushed the body of the carriage up from the ground where it had rested for so long. The carriage skittered away on fine, pointed feet, bearing the man inside toward the woods and away.

The Beast did not watch them leave. She turned back toward her castle.

In a moment, the courtyard was empty again.

* * *

 **AN:**

 _Press A to "Mario."_

 _Any time I think a chapter is going to be short, it ends up being longer than the previous chapters. Every time._

 _I actually meant to have this chapter up sooner, but I was really sick last week. Like,_ really sick. _My father got sick around the same time despite living several states away. It was a psychic sickness._

 _Dude, what was up with that carriage in the animated film? I think that godforsaken carriage scares people more than the Beast ever does. The fact that its only in the one scene makes it even freakier. I just wish it had been in the live-action movie. Can you imagine how awesome that thing would look in the 2017 film's art style? I'd be into it._

 _I feel like most people know about this Easter egg by now, but just in case, if you loiter around the well in_ Luigi's Mansion, _you can occasionally hear Mario shout, "Hey, Luigi! What's the holdup?" Some people think that Mario is being overly demanding or a jerk, but it's a bit I actually find heartwarming. Mario is 100% confident that Luigi will save him. When Luigi doesn't show up, it doesn't occur to him that Luigi might have failed or chickened out. He just thinks he's dragging his heels. Mario's got a lot of faith in his brother._

 _Piranha Plants in Minion's Quest and Bowser Junior's Journey are weak to fire, despite shooting fire themselves. It may be dumb, but I think Popple talking about stupid plants might come across as a bit hypocritical. I don't know to what extent the Beanish can actually be considered plant people, but it sure is fun to refer to Popple as a stupid legume._

 _Speaking of Popple, why exactly did he save Luigi at first? Well, he was still holding on to some kind of hope of getting paid, but I also don't think Popple is completely evil. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's an unrepentant scumbag, but I feel like there was worse people in the Mario canon. It's not like he's with the BFF or anything. Those people are psychos._

 _If you liked the chapter, or even if you didn't, be sure to leave a review telling me what you think! There's a prize for anyone who can guess the identities of the enchanted objects in this chapter!_

 _Okay, there won't be prizes, but it'll be fun to guess anyway._

 _Ciao!_


	5. I'm Certain

**Chapter Five: I'm Certain**

Her talons clicked and scraped across the stone floor, and the sound of her armored tail slipping through the dark behind her was like the slow drag of iron chains. The Beast knew these sounds well. Long had she averted her eyes from the ghost of her image in every window. Long had she avoided the glimmering light of pools in the sun. Every mirror in the castle hung shattered on the wall. But, she could not escape the sounds trailing behind her, echoing down from the high chamber walls as she moved through them. The scrape of a whetstone against the blade, the heavy clang of an iron door, the feral rumbling of a predator just before the kill. These sounds were hers, and there was no silencing them.

An enamel pitcher sat on a nearby table, far from the front chambers where it had earlier sat. As the Beast approached, she heard a whisper:

"Why'd you accept his deal? You know that was cruel."

The Beast sighed and walked on.

Stairs were easy for her. No man possessed the strength she required simply to move her body. The very muscles that rippled under the sheath of her scales also weighed her down. They encircled her bones, bulged out along her neck, across her shoulders, draped over and hanging from every inch of her frame. A thick coat of armor was grafted to her very skin, and each scale could only be removed with a wet rip of fruit pulp and a dot of blood. Even the fangs in her skull were heavy, and her horned head hung low, with her shoulders straining above. But, she had long grown accustomed to her own heaviness. It weighed down onto her like the collapsed ceiling of a cave, but her suffering had long grown stale. She could not clearly remember anything else.

She arrived at the top of the tower, her breath no quicker or heavier than it had been at the bottom, and from there walked to the cell to observe her prisoner.

He hadn't moved. The brim of his cap was covering his eyes, but she could see the red hat he clutched to his chest behind his white gloves. Aside from a slight shakiness in his breathing, he was totally silent.

The Beast lowered herself to the floor, peering at him through the bars. She would never admit it, but the truth was she was completely dumbfounded by this man. Most of the men who came here had attempted in some way to disguise their fear. Even his brother had done so. They had put on a brave face, boasting to her about all the violent things they would do to her in salivating detail. It was only after she'd snapped their blades and pierced their armor that their masks had fallen away. It was then that they'd shown their true colors, sniveling and blubbering as they begging for their lives with their foreheads pressed to her floor. (Though, it had been a long time since she had fallen for that trap. The first few men she'd let flee had all returned in greater numbers. People who wished to live would promise anything, she'd found.)

But, this man was different. He had made no attempt whatever to hide his fear. It had been plain as day in his large blue eyes, his trembling spine, his shaking voice. He had seemed quite in danger of fainting at any moment. Evidently, he had no pride to speak of. And yet, he had only asked her for his brother's freedom. Not once had he begged for his own life. What's more, he had volunteered to trap himself here with her. If this brother were really so precious to him, why did he not fight to stay with him?

She couldn't fathom it at all.

Her tail swept idly across the floor, and at the sound, the prisoner lifted his head. When he saw the Beast crouched at the door of his cell, he yelped and shuffled back against the far wall. The Beast gave out a huff, unimpressed. Perhaps she was thinking about this too deeply. It was possible that the man was simply an idiot.

The prisoner curled with his hands splayed out across the wall as though bracing himself against a typhoon. His wide eyes seemed riveted to her face.

"Are… Are you going to eat me?" he asked.

The Beast sighed wearily. "No," she said. "Where did you get such a disgusting idea?"

The Beast pulled herself up to the handle of the cell door. Luigi watched as the door creaked open.

"Come out of there," she said. "I'm moving you to a room downstairs."

A trace of confusion crept into Luigi's frightened expression. "A room?" he repeated dumbly. "But, I thought-"

"Well, if you'd rather stay in the tower, that's fine with me." The Beast began to close the door.

"No, no, wait!" Luigi cried.

The door stopped mid-swing. "Well, get out here, then," the Beast said.

Luigi pulled himself shakily to his feet. He huddled deep inside his cloak as he approached the open door. When the form of the Beast was at his side, he averted his eyes to the floor with a shudder. He didn't see the pained expression in her eyes as he did so.

The Beast swung the cell door shut behind him. Even that sound made him jump.

"Grab that candle off the table and follow me."

Luigi slipped his finger into the ring of the winged candle holder and followed the long, winding tail down the spiral steps.

They walked through the castle in silence, the curved blackness of the gargoyles looming above them. Luigi did not raise his eyes to the tapestries, stonework, or branching chandeliers lining the walls around him. The candle flame blocked these things from his eyes so that all was dimmed behind a yellow haze. He saw the flicker of the golden tail ahead of him and that was all he could bear to see.

After a few moments, he spoke.

"Um, where is my brother?" he asked.

The Beast didn't turn. "I've put him in the care of one of my servants," she said. "He's taking him to the village."

Luigi didn't answer right away. "Thank you," he finally said.

The Beast resisted the urge to turn her head and stare. Now, he was thanking her for imprisoning him? "We had a deal," was all she said.

She finally stopped outside a painted pair of double doors and pushed them open. "Here," she said.

She noticed again how Luigi shuddered as he passed her and stepped obediently into the room.

Luigi lowered the candle and gazed inside. The flame illuminated the pattern of an enormous bedspread ahead of him. He was in a bedroom, one almost larger than his entire house.

His house…

The Beast stepped through the door behind him and pulled a key out of the lock. "Here," she said as she held it out to him.

At the sight of her arm extending toward him, Luigi's entire frame jolted violently. The Beast sighed and grabbed his hand. He stood trembling as she uncurled his fingers and placed the key in his palm.

"The door locks from the inside," she said. "You can lock it if you want."

Luigi's hand retreated as soon as she let go. He clutched the key silently.

The Beast turned to leave, but at the door she hesitated. She felt, foolishly, that she ought to say something more.

"Well… Goodnight," was all she could manage. The door swung shut behind her.

Finding himself now alone, Luigi trudged deeper into the room. The dark and the size made it seem more like a cave than a bedroom. He couldn't think of it as his. In truth, he was too exhausted to think of much of anything.

He set the candle down on the dusty bedside table and ran his hand over the bedspread. Even when his arm was at full length, the tips of his fingers couldn't reach halfway across the bed. Never in his life had he met anyone rich enough to afford a bed like this. But now, this was his bed. This is the bed he would wake up in every morning for the rest of his life.

It was absurd, it was unreasonable that this thought should be what pushed him over the edge, but as soon as the thought was in his mind, he collapsed into chest-rending sobs. He pressed his face to the quilt and cried into it as though he were a child wailing into his mother's skirt. Steam filled his open mouth and burned his cheeks as the bedspread became dotted with tears. The sorrow ripped through him as it tore its way out his body, out his mouth, out his eyes, through his fingers as they knotted themselves in the quilt.

He would never wake up in his own bed again. His house was gone. His village was gone. His work was all for nothing. And Mario… Mario was not here. He would never be here. Never again.

And yet, if that was the deepest sorrow of all, it was all the deepest relief. Mario was not here. It was a torture as well as a balm. Mario was home. Mario was safe.

His long weary walk through the forest, the snarling teeth of the Piranha Plants, the contemptuous eyes of the Beast, the grief, the peace, all of these things whirled within Luigi, overwhelming him until he could do nothing but burst.

And so he sobbed into the night, the candle flame flickering behind him.

* * *

Dr. Elvin Gadd was bent low over his desk, as usual, his pencil scratching back and forth over the sheet spread before him. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he squinted down at the equation he'd just written. Over the years, his eyesight had gotten steadily worse until he was practically pressing his chin into the desk as he worked. Many of his various employees and even a few of his nosier patients had criticized his bad posture. Gadd supposed there was some truth to what they were saying, but at his age, his back hurt no matter what he did. It far was too late to attempt to straighten out his spine. He ought to know such things. He was a doctor, after all.

One of his Toad assistants clattered forward with a tea tray balanced on his head. "Your coffee, Doctor!" he squealed.

"Ah! Thank you!" Dr. E. Gadd lifted the cup off his assistant's head, noticing the yellow polka dots underneath the tray. As he'd grown older, remembering names had become more and more of a bother, and this Toad hadn't been working for him for very long. Dr. E. Gadd found it was easier simply to think of him as "The Yellow One," though he of course took care never to call him as such to his face. He was old, but he wasn't socially inept.

Dr. E. Gadd took a long, luxurious sip. The Toad didn't move away but stood fidgeting.

"Um, Doctor? Can I please go home now?" he asked.

"Don't be silly! The night is still young! We've got a lot of work left to do!"

"But, Doctor, it's past midnight! I've already straightened the office and swept the floor and refiled the patients' records according to your new filing system-"

"Yes, that system…" said Gadd musingly. "I think it could use some tweaking."

"I really, really need to sleep!" the Toad cried.

"You'll take off and leave me here?" said Gadd. "What about the coffee?"

"I left the pot on the stove!" said the Toad. "Surely you won't need any more by tomorrow!"

E. Gadd hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Alright," he finally said. "Go on, then."

The Toad exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Doctor!" Then he hastily ran out before the doctor had a chance to change his mind.

The Toad pulled up a stool and climbed on top so as to reach the hat and coat hanging from the coat hanger. He pushed his arms through the sleeves and sat the hat neatly on top of his mushroom cap. His only thoughts were of the warm comfort his mattress would soon bring as he pulled the door open and stepped outside.

His hearing was beginning to fail, but E. Gadd still heard the scream. He irritably pushed his chair back across the carpet and headed for the front door.

"What in tarnation are you screeching about?" he asked as soon as he was outside.

He saw before the Toad could answer. A man not much taller than himself lay huddled on the front stoop of the clinic. His teeth were chattering violently under his mustache, and he could hear the shudder in every breath.

"I had just opened the door, and I found him like this!" the Toad cried.

E. Gadd bent down to peer into the man's face. "Why, it's Mario!" he exclaimed. "What happened to you, my boy?"

All the rest of Mario's body was curled tightly around his torso except for one leg that stretched out unnaturally against the cobblestone. Gadd could see that the pant leg was stained with blood.

"Luigi… Luigi…" he murmured. His brow was knotted with pain.

"Hold on, sonny. We've got you." He turned to his assistant. "Go get me a splint and put more wood in the stove. We need to get him warm."

"Yes, Doctor," the Toad said. He scurried back inside, suppressing a pang at the thought of his bed, which now seemed more distant than ever.

In a moment, the splint was around Mario's leg, and both the Toad and the doctor were helping him back inside.

"Luigi… Luigi…" he kept saying.

"Yes, yes, we'll inform your brother what's happened. Just lie down." They led Mario to the sparse, narrow bed in front of the stove. White sheets were tucked tightly around Mario as he stirred fitfully.

Toad poured river stones into the kettle above the fire as E. Gadd turned to his medicine cabinet.

"Have to go back…" Mario muttered. His head turned back and forth on the pillow. "I have to go…"

"You're not going anywhere, sonny. Not until you rest." E. Gadd crumpled a green leaf between his fingers and sprinkled it into a glass. Clouds of green spread through the liquid as the fragments spun.

"I left him…" Mario cried. "I left him…!"

"Yes, yes, I know," said E. Gadd dismissively. "Just drink up. You'll feel better." E. Gadd raised the glass to Mario's lips. Not having the strength to spit, Mario swallowed. E. Gadd lifted the glass away as Mario stirred and struggled against the sleep overtaking him, but in less than a moment his voice had dropped off into silence.

E. Gadd sat watching Mario as he snored.

"Poor feller," he said. "Wonder what happened."

He turned to the Toad, who was emptying the heated stones into the bed warmer.

"As soon as you're done with that, go and get Luigi and tell him to come down here posthaste. You can go home once you've woken him up."

* * *

He had slept only in fits and starts, and he could remember nothing about his dreams except that they'd made him sick. He pushed himself through the dark landscapes of twisted vines and emerged swaddled in light. The mattress pushing up around his limbs was soft as dough, and he could feel the pillow pressed up against his cheek. Beams of sunlight slanted over the ceiling above him, and he could feel it warming his lap as it fell over the quilt.

Luigi lay for a moment, looking up at the cutouts of sunlight on the ceiling. In the confused haze of his dreams, he'd forgotten which of the nightmares were real and which had been only delirium, and now he stared as everything reassembled itself in his exhausted brain. The dark woods, the flames, Mario covered in dried blood, and the Beast. Yes, the Beast.

He sat up, and the quilt slid off him.

The sight of the quilt crumpled in his lap gave him pause. When had he climbed under the covers? Luigi looked down and saw that his shoes were lined up at the foot of the bed. Had he taken his shoes off? And… cleaned them? The leather was shiny with no sign of the clots of mud he'd accumulated in the forest.

Luigi looked up and saw his cloak as well as his and Mario's hats hanging on the coatrack. That was definitely not his doing. Luigi remembered the Beast had handed him a key to lock the door, and now he deeply regretted not doing that. But who had come in? The Beast had said something about servants, hadn't she?

Luigi looked over to the candle still glowing on the bedside table. In the bright morning light, it had been harder to notice. Had that candle really been lit all night? Funny, it didn't seem to be any smaller. Perhaps it had been changed out?

Not really thinking much of it, Luigi leaned over and blew the candle out.

Luigi was leaning back onto the bed when the small flame reappeared. Puzzled, Luigi leaned forward and blew it out again. The blown out flame was quickly replaced by another. Frowning, Luigi blew once more, puffing out his cheeks. The wick trailed smoke for only a moment before bursting back into flame.

Luigi licked the tip of his finger and pinched the wick.

"Hands to yourself, please!" the candle shouted heartily.

Luigi screamed and tumbled off the bed. The candle peered down at him over the edge of the table.

"What a marvelous reaction!" it exclaimed. "Definitely worth the wait!"

"What-!? What-!? What-!?" Luigi stammered. He saw that the wax, which had before been melting down the sides of the candle in random streaks, now formed the shape of a small, thin humanoid with bulbous, waxy drops in the place of shoulder-length hair. The candle flame sputtered bizarrely from the top of the figure's head.

Luigi gaped as the candle straightened. The metal wings on either side of the candle holder flapped and Luigi found himself face to face with a candle hovering on a disk in the air. The candle pulled out a needle that had been submerged in the wax that comprised its leg and bowed, sweeping the needle out as though it were a rapier.

"Sir Peasley, at your service," the candle said.

"You're a-! You're a candle!" Luigi cried.

"Good lord, am I?" The candle turned and looked over itself in apparent alarm. "Why didn't anyone tell me!"

"Wait! Wait!" Luigi pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to grasp the full dimension of what this meant. "Were you sitting there on that table all night!?"

"I was," said Peasley apologetically. "I would've introduced myself sooner, but you were in quite a state. I thought you could use some moments to yourself."

Luigi's cheeks warmed. "You saw that?" he whimpered.

"Oh, now, don't be embarrassed," said Peasley, wagging a finger. "An outpouring of emotion is only natural considering what you're going through."

Before Luigi could even begin to assemble an answer to a candle, there was a knock at the door. Though, Luigi couldn't help but notice the knock was coming from lower on the door than normal.

"Ah, perfect timing!" Peasley shouted. "Come in!"

The door opened, and Luigi's eyes popped as a water pitcher and a flower vase hobbled into the room.

"Good morning, sir," said the pitcher with a curtsy. "How did you sleep?" With a rounded bottom and long slender neck, the pitcher's shape resembled the figure of a woman, and Luigi saw the enamel ripple as though it were a skirt. Her face, positioned just under the opening, was pretty as a china doll.

"Peach, you know he slept terribly," said Peasley before Luigi could answer. "Don't torment him anymore."

"I was asking our guest, Peasley," Peach chided gently. She turned back to Luigi with a smile. "It's been so dry lately," she said, "we thought you'd enjoy a glass of juice in the morning."

The flower vase was holding a cup. It was a strange sight indeed to see the pitcher bend herself sideways to pour a glass of shimmering juice into the cup.

The flower vase came forward and held the cup out to Luigi with an expectant smile. Luigi laughed nervously.

"Oh, I know what's going on!" he said, grinning widely. "I've lost my mind! All the stress has gotten to me, and now I've snapped!"

Peasley fluttered over to Luigi's face and jabbed the sewing needle into the side of his nose. Luigi yelped and slapped his hands to his nose. "What was that for?" he cried.

"Real enough for you?" said Peasley cheerfully. "If you haven't woken up, that either means we're real, or you're inescapably crazy. You might as well enjoy it."

Eyes watering, Luigi looked back down at the flower vase, whose smile had turned apologetic. "It's good," she promised.

Luigi took the cup. Peasley fluttered over to the empty fireplace. "It's cold in here, isn't it?" he said. "Let me get this going for you."

Luigi eyed the glass in his hands. "This isn't going to come alive, is it?" he asked nervously.

The candle holder flapped upside down as Peasley touched the tip of his flame to the firewood. "Why would it?" said Peasley, frowning.

Luigi took a sip. Then a deeper gulp. He hadn't realized until now how thirsty he was. And the juice was good. It was sugary sweet yet light as water. It wasn't long before the cup was empty.

The bloom of a pink rose appeared in a corner of Luigi's vision. He looked down past the cup and saw the flower vase holding the stem up to him.

"Here," she said. "For you."

Luigi took the flower. The stem was smooth and without thorns. "Thank you," he said.

"My name's Toadette," said the flower vase. "What's yours?"

Never in his life did Luigi think he would be introducing himself to a flower vase, but the earnest look on her face made him forget the absurdity. "Luigi," he said.

"It's nice to meet you, Luigi," she said. "I know it's too much to ask you to be happy here, but I hope we can at least be friends."

Luigi felt his eyes sting as Peasley fluttered back over. The fire was now crackling in the fireplace. Warmth seeped through the room, and Luigi felt it wash over his aching limbs.

"I must apologize," said Peasley, "for leading you up to that tower. I never intended to trap you here. Forgive me."

Luigi looked up at Peasley's sad smile. He shook his head.

"Don't apologize for that," said Luigi. "I'm glad I was able to help Mario. Even if… I never see him again…"

They could all hear the way his voice broke.

"Don't say that," said Peach. "Yesterday, you didn't think you'd be here, did you? Who knows what tomorrow will bring? So, keep your chin up, alright?"

Luigi wiped his eyes and smiled. His blue eyes sparkled with tears unfallen. In spite of himself, he felt comforted.

"Now, I'm sure you must be starving," said Peach. "Let us get breakfast started for you."

"Breakfast?" Luigi repeated. His head was spinning.

"Yes, breakfast. Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Now, now, Peach, he's had a long night!" Peasley scolded. "We'll set up a whole buffet!" He fluttered over to the door and pulled it open. "We'll send someone to get you when it's ready," he said.

"Wait!" called Luigi.

Peach and Peasley stopped and turned. "Yes?" they said.

"Um…" Luigi stopped, suddenly embarrassed. "Will… Will _she_ be there?"

"Oh, the mistress?" Peach and Peasley exchanged a look. "I would expect not," said Peasley. "She usually prefers to dine alone."

"Oh. Okay." Luigi felt himself relax but only a little. Dine on what, exactly?

"Well, if that's all, then please excuse us," said Peach. Both she and Peasley slipped out the door.

Toadette took the empty cup from Luigi.

"What would you like to do now?" she asked. "Would you like me to have someone draw up a bath?"

"Ah! Maybe later!" Luigi cried. He might be able to get used to talking knickknacks, but certain things remained out of the question.

* * *

On the floor below, the Beast lay curled before a much larger fire, watching the flames dance in the grate. Her eyes stung from the blaze, but she didn't look away.

"Mistress, I beg you to reconsider! I don't think you've fully considered the consequences of letting that man roam the castle freely!"

"Oh, haven't I?" she said lazily. If she had spared the footstool beside her a glance, she would have seen the stern features carved below the tasseled seat. But, he had been continuing in this vein for some time, and her indifference had grown with every additional word.

"No, I daresay, you haven't! You don't know anything about this man! Suppose he tries to attack you just as the last one did? What guarantee do you have that he won't betray you?"

"You didn't see him in the tower last night," the Beast said. "He's terrified of me. A man like that won't try anything. He doesn't have the guts."

"With all due respect, Mistress, volunteering to trade places with a prisoner doesn't strike me as the action of a terrified man! He may be more cunning than we think! Suppose he's carrying a weapon we didn't see!"

"Toadsworth, you're far too paranoid!" The Beast and the footstool looked up to see Peasley flying into the room. "He doesn't have any weapons. I ought to know, since I undressed him."

Toadsworth spluttered and even the Beast looked shocked as Peach entered. "Don't phrase it like that, Peasley," she said calmly, "we only took off his shoes and hat. Poor thing was too tired to climb into bed."

Peasley's candle holder fluttered above the Beast's head. "Mistress, if I may state my mind plainly," he began, "I believe this prisoner of yours has many admirable qualities. Sensitive, gentle, yet daring, and with terrific lung power! Yes, my lady, I do believe this man might be exactly what we need!"

"What we need?" the Beast repeated flatly.

"To break the curse, of course!" Peasley declared.

"Really, now, Peasley, you can't still be thinking of breaking the curse after all this time!" Toadsworth exclaimed. "The rose has already begun to wilt."

The candle holder fluttered over to Toadsworth and came to a rest on top of the seat. Peasley knelt to look down into Toadsworth's indignant face.

"It is precisely because the rose is wilting that now is the perfect time. Consider, Mistress! What are the chances that a dashing young man will come into our lives just as the deadline approaches! Why, what else can it be but fate?"

The Beast rolled her eyes. "Dashing? Hardly."

"In these circumstances, I'm shocked that you can even think of romance!" Toadsworth tried to shake Peasley off his head as he spoke, but it was no use. He simply floated back into place as soon as the cushion was still. "Need I remind you that the man was forced to barter for his brother's freedom with his own!"

"Not an ideal start, I'll admit," said Peasley, "but we have to start somewhere. I understand why you might not be eager to see the curse broken. After all, you were already an old bean when the spell was cast. I take it you might not miss your aching joints or snow-white mustache. But, you must think of the needs of others! As for myself, I can't think of anything I wouldn't do to get my dashing good looks back!"

"Don't be a fool, Peasley! You think you're the only one who wants your old self back?" Toadsworth lowered his embittered gaze to the floor. Though his features were made of wood, in that moment he looked as old as Peasley claimed. "I've spent the last ninety-nine years watching my hopes die. I'm not strong enough to do that all over again."

The Beast looked over her shoulder at the Toad who had served her for so long. Neither Mario nor Luigi could ever imagine the look of guilt that now softened her features.

"I understand," Peasley said softly. "But, don't you worry! If holding out hope is really too difficult for you, then I'll do all the hoping for you!"

Toadsworth looked up, touched in spite of himself, as Peasley smiled. "How about this?" said Peasley. "We'll bring them together and just see what happens! And if the Mistress decides she doesn't want him, then I'll take him! How does that sound?"

Toadsworth immediately resumed trying to buck Peasley off his head. "What sort of idea is that!" he barked. "And, why did you say 'How about this?' as though you thought of something brilliant!?"

Peach frowned. "Take him where?" she asked.

The Beast pressed a claw to her brow, willing herself to be patient. "Look, I don't want any of you to get weird ideas. Just last night, he asked me if I was going to eat him. He's not going to attack me, and he's definitely not going to fall in love with me. So, it'd be best if you get that out of your heads now."

"Well," Peach now said, "if you really think there's no hope, then why are you keeping him here?"

The Beast's eyes slid back to the fire. "It's for our own protection," she said. "If I had let them both go, they'd come back with a whole mob. Torches and pitchforks. You know how it goes just as well as I do. But now, he won't dare come back. Not if it means risking his brother's life. This way, nobody dies."

Her eyes, reflecting the light of the fire, seemed just as old as Toadsworth's. "In other words," said Peach, "he's a hostage."

The Beast sighed. "Yes," she said, "that's right. So, you see, it's not romantic at all."

Her long form uncurled from the carpet as she rose to her feet.

"I'm going out," she said. "I won't be back until late."

"Oh," Peasley moaned, "but how are you supposed to fall in love with him if you're not here?"

The Beast flashed him a look of irritation. "You weren't listening at all, were you?" she snapped. She turned towards the door. "Take care of whatever he needs," she said.

Peach waited until the tail had slipped around the door frame before turning to Peasley. "You'll have to be patient," she said. "Even if breaking the curse is possible, people don't fall in love in one day."

"You may think so," said Peasley, "but did you see his smile? I'm certain that if she could only see him like that, she'd fall for him on the spot."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Peasley eats his soba with great confidence. (Eat it normally!)_

 _Poor Peasley got downgraded from prince to knight. He's still got it better than Peach, poor thing, who got demoted from princess to cook. Still, to the reviewer who predicted that Peach would be in this story and that she's the pitcher, congratulations! You were spot on! Here is the nothing I promised you._

 _There's a cute little headcanon I saw on Tumblr that Lumiere in the Disney version thought Belle and the Beast could fall in love in one night is because that's how long it took for him to fall in love with the feather duster. Peasley's reason for thinking so is slightly different._

 _That poor Toad. This is at least the second time in this story I'm wondering if I'm being too mean. E. Gadd realizes in_ Dark Moon, _"I must be really horrible to work for!" I work hard to keep everyone in character._

 _I don't know why there are two jokes about Luigi stripping in this chapter. I swear this is a K+ rated fic._

 _More reviews! More! I love you all! Ciao!_


	6. Never Found

**Chapter Six: Never Found**

Mario felt the pain in his leg before he was awake. He dreamed of a long, stone corridor with dripping walls and icy winds. Far down the throat of the dungeon he could hear Luigi's voice screaming his name. He knew he absolutely must reach that voice, but his leg wouldn't move. It was as stiff as though it, too, were made of stone, and it throbbed and burned with every inch he dragged it across the floor. Still, he heaved his useless, crumbling leg behind him as he struggled down the corridor, but no matter how many agonizing steps he took, his brother's voice never seemed to get any closer…

Mario pulled and pulled and found that his leg was not scraping against cobbled stone but suspended above him. He opened his eyes and saw the cast.

The pain in his leg remained constant as he became aware of the sheets wrinkled around him, so soaked with sweat it seemed as though he were swimming in his bed rather than lying in it. He tried to sit up, but while one leg moved back obediently over the rumpled sheets, the other merely swung in its harness like the pendulum of a clock. Each swing was like an iron bolt being driven into his bones. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

He experienced all of this without a single coherent idea, but suddenly one word pierced through the fog in his brain.

He said the word out loud:

"Luigi."

Dr. E. Gadd had heard the stirring and squeaking from his desk and now opened the door to the ward. "Mario! I see you're awa-!"

He cut off his own greeting with a squeak as he rushed forward. Mario was currently halfway out of bed, struggling to yank his injured leg out of the harness.

"Mario, my boy! Settle down! You can't be on that leg yet!"

Mario slapped away the old man's fretting hands. "I can't stay here!" he said. With a final tug, the heel of the cast slipped out of its hammock and thudded to the floor. As the impact wracked through his frame, Mario yelped so loudly that villagers on the street outside turned their heads to briefly wonder who was getting their teeth pulled today.

Mario panted. New beads of sweat glistened along his forehead.

E. Gadd's astonishment was replaced by clinical indignation. "Young man, I can certainly admire your energy, but if you force me to reset that bone again-!"

"Sorry. But, I can't sit around! Not while Luigi's in the castle!" Mario pushed his way past the doctor and limped over to the coat rack in the corner.

His progress was slow, and it was easy for E. Gadd to hurry in front of him again. "What castle? What on earth are you talking about?"

"The Beast. In the castle. It's real. I saw it. It has Luigi!"

E. Gadd stared. "I think you're still dreaming, my boy! I'm sure Luigi will return home soon, and when he does-"

"He's not going to return home!" Mario snapped. "Not as long as that thing's got him!" Mario ripped his coat from the wooden stand. Something small clattered to the floor, but Mario paid it no mind as he shoved his arms through the sleeves.

"Perhaps I made a mistake only attending to your leg. I should've examined your head as well." E. Gadd's frame rattled as he began the arduous process of bending down to pick up the fallen object.

Mario turned in time to see E. Gadd's rickety fingers brushed object. He held it out to the younger man.

"Here. You dropped this."

Mario took it. It was the clockwork knight, the only piece of Luigi's work he'd managed to hold onto, its arm still raised in silent supplication. In the bright, midday light, Mario could see the dark, grainy splotches where the mud had clung to the wood. He could also see the tiny grooves and marks where Luigi's knife had peeled away at the outer shell, digging deeper and deeper until the form was revealed. On the knight's face, in minute detail, Luigi had painted an expression of happiness so overwhelming it could easily be mistaken for sorrow. The beautiful princess would never again be in its place before him, but he would forever see her.

"I know what I saw," said Mario quietly. "He's there. Because of me."

E. Gadd waited. It seemed his patient was no longer eager to flee. Mario turned. "Fine. I'll stay here. But, I want to talk to the inspector."

"Well, it's true that we couldn't find Luigi last night, so I guess the inspector isn't uncalled for. You just get back in that bed!" Mario watched as E. Gadd shuffled into the front room.

The yellow Toad's arms were flung out over the couch as he snored. E. Gadd loudly slapped the wall above the couch, causing the Toad to jolt upward.

"Ah… hmm… Wha…?"

"Rise and shine!" said E. Gadd. "I need you to go to the station and fetch the police inspector. Tell him a patient would like to report a missing person! And, Mario, I told you to go back to bed!"

Mario ignored E. Gadd and remained standing in the doorway. E. Gadd shuffled irritably toward his office as Mario watched the Toad groggily pull his own jacket off the back of the couch.

As the Toad stood on the couch, he looked over and saw Mario staring at him.

"Mario? Is there something else you wanted?"

It looked to the Toad as though Mario had a sour taste in his mouth. "You know Waluigi, right?"

"Uh, the tavern owner? Sure, everybody knows him."

"Go find him. Before you go to the station. I need to talk them both."

The Toad's brow furrowed under his mushroom cap. "Why?"

Mario leaned forward and kept his voice low as he answered, "Because I saw the Beast."

E. Gadd never went out drinking. He was too old, too busy, too fond of muted voices to mingle with the late night crowd. But this Toad had seen the shadows dance on the tavern wall. The Beast was meaningless to the doctor, but the Toad knew better.

Frightened and in awe, the Toad hurried out the front door.

* * *

The smell, warm and sweet, had wafted over Luigi before the dining room was even in sight, but he was still utterly unprepared for what awaited him inside. The long dining table was absolutely laden with shimmering dishes, so tightly packed that Luigi couldn't answer with certainty what color the tablecloth even was. There were eggs cooked in every way imaginable, fried with crispy, brown edges, scrambled into yellow, fluffy pillows, boiled with the white shells still steaming around them. There were large, succulent fruits as brightly colored as the flowers that had died to make them. There were meats lying in fried strips, in thick slices, surrounded by a shining coat of honey glaze. There were dishes and bowls filled with casseroles and other warm concoctions that Luigi couldn't even begin to identify. And the pastries. Oh, the pastries! Muffins as soft as clouds, croissants flaking before his eyes, slices of cake with tree rings of cinnamon running over the soft flesh, and all of it surrounded with jars of jam, shimmering like jewels and numerous enough to last Luigi through a decade-long siege.

Luigi's mouth gaped as he stared. He remembered festival days at the market in his village, when every stall was filled to the brim with sweets and delights. And still he didn't think he'd ever seen so much food in one place.

Pushed up against this sizzling banquet was a single, wooden chair.

Toadette hobbled onto the one free space remaining on the table as Peach grinned apologetically from where she stood. "Sorry about all this," she said. "We weren't sure what you liked, so instead of bothering you-"

"We decided to make everything!" Peasley finished.

"I… I…" Luigi stammered, "I don't know what to say!"

Peasley fluttered over. "You don't have to say anything!" he said, wagging a finger. "It's impolite to talk with your mouth full, after all!"

Toadsworth pulled the chair back as Luigi staggered to the table. He hesitantly grabbed a croissant and bit into it. Euphoria hit him in stages. First, the crunch reached his ears. Then, the feeling hit his tongue, the outer shell breaking easily as the hot pillowy stuffing flooded the roof of his mouth. Then, the taste.

Luigi hadn't thought he'd had an appetite, but soon he was scarfing everything with reach. In some cases, he only took a bite of one thing before moving on to the next. A mouthful of egg, a gulp of bacon, the instant disappearance of an entire slice of cake. That last launched him into a coughing fit. Without being asked, Peach poured a stream of milk into a glass, which Luigi seized eagerly.

"Take it easy!" said Peasley as Luigi gulped down his milk. "You'll pop if you keep up that pace!"

Luigi put the glass down. "Sorry," he said, blushing. "It's really good."

Peasley beamed. "I'm glad you're satisfied with the meal! We pride ourselves on our service, you know!"

Toadsworth glared up at Peasley from where he stood waiting by Luigi's side. "Why are you acting so proud? You didn't do anything in the kitchen except get in the way!"

"Not so, Toadsworth!" chided Peasley. "I was there for moral support!"

Luigi smiled. He was reaching across the table for a muffin when he caught Toadette staring at him. She looked unhappy, but somehow her expression didn't seem to be one of hunger.

As soon as Toadette caught him looking, she let out a tiny gasp and pulled a smile back onto her face. Luigi looked over at Peach. She was staring at him, too. So was Toadsworth. Even Peasley was watching him.

"Is something wrong?" Peasley asked.

Luigi looked around at the faces made of wood, wax, and porcelain. "Aren't you going to-?"

"We can't," said Toadette. She was still smiling, but Luigi couldn't miss the sorrow in her voice. "This really is all for you."

"It's alright, Luigi," said Peach gently. "We don't expect you to eat everything. It's just been so long since we had a guest, I suppose we got carried away."

"Did Mario eat like this?" Luigi asked her.

He knew what the answer had to be, but still he had hoped for something other than the hush which now descended on the table.

"We tried to bring your brother food, Luigi," Peasley finally said, "But, he barely touched anything we brought him."

Mario didn't eat. Mario hadn't touched anything. Luigi could recall Mario turning down food only once. Years ago when they were children, Mario had become violently ill. Luigi could still see hear their mother begging and pleading with Mario to please swallow something, even just a little broth, and Mario's tearful protestations when his mother pressed the cup to his chin…

"Luigi…" Toadette said his name softly.

Luigi hadn't noticed his tears, but now he felt their slow trail down his cheek. He lowered his gaze and pulled down the brim of his cap, but soon he felt the press of cool cloth underneath his eye. He looked up and saw Peach wiping his face with a napkin. She lifted the napkin away from his cheek and held it out to him. He took it from her and dabbed at his other eye.

"Why," Luigi said, "are you all being so nice to me?"

Peach smiled sadly.

"We're all in here together," she said, "so we might as well get along."

* * *

When he'd heard the scraping of the door and the tinkling of the bell, Waluigi hadn't even looked up. "We're closed," he'd said curtly. "Come back tonight." He did not fully expect the intruder to leave. Thirst could bring out the worst in people, he'd found, and it was not uncommon for a scrap to follow his dismissal. But, he found himself looking up from his bottles in surprise when he heard the small, rather frazzled Toad shout that he had to come to the clinic right away.

Then the Toad had told him why.

The Toad began to make his way to the station as he'd been instructed, but he soon realized he needn't bother. Waluigi beat him there. Waluigi needed only to take a fifth as many strides as the Toad to reach the front door, and once he'd reached it, he'd practically kicked it off his hinges. He found Wario snoring face down on a cot in one of the empty cells and impatiently cut off his spluttering protests as he dragged his substantial girth across the floor.

Only a moment later, E. Gadd jumped in alarm when Waluigi threw his own door open in a similarly violent manner.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

He was spared having to wait for an answer. Mario was there, seated on the couch with his bandaged leg propped up on the low table. Unlike E. Gadd, who was paying Waluigi all sorts of compliments on his speed and stamina, Mario didn't seem at all surprised to see Waluigi so soon.

"Sit down," he said grimly. "We have a lot to talk about."

They were soon seated. Waluigi leaned forward eagerly on his bony knees, and Wario settled deep into his chair with a look of utter bemusement as Mario told them of the Beast. Of the castle in the woods. Of its fanged and terrible mistress. And of his brother, who was her prisoner.

Wario could only laugh.

"Aw, come on!" he chuckled. "You really expect us to believe you saw this thing?"

"I did see it!" Mario gestured wildly at his outstretched leg. "You think I did to myself?"

"It's not that hard to believe," Wario scoffed. He leaned forward, not an easy feat, and tapped Mario's foot. "Tell me this: If you really saw this beast, how did you get away with only a broken leg?"

"That's right!" Waluigi nodded solemnly. "The Beast kills anyone who comes near!"

Mario irritably pushed Wario's hand away. "Believe me, I thought I was done for," he said, "but then…"

* * *

 _If a hammer held by a giant had swung down on his body, Mario doubted he would be in any more pain. The stone that slammed him to the floor bruised and scraped and squeezed and kept squeezing, pressing the air from his lungs and stomach with agonizing slowness. He heard a crack that he knew was not the stone, and a searing pain shot through the right leg. Tears came to his eyes as he gasped, sucking in breaths full of white powder that coated his mouth and throat and made him cough. He felt the wood of the spear pressed painfully against his ribs. The stone has missed his head and neck, so he was able to lift his face to see the Beast slip to the floor before him, its face grimly satisfied._

 _It pulled its head back, its open mouth rumbling._

 _Yet again, his brother's face surged into Mario's mind._

 _"_ _Luigi…!"_

 _Mario's entire body tensed in anticipation of the strike that would end his life, but it never came. There was a flash of pink crystal, and suddenly a water pitcher stood before Mario's face with its porcelain arms outstretched._

 _It was as though a string had pulled back against the monster's head. A kind of ripple traveled from her haunches to her neck as her momentum halted inches from the pitcher. Mario stared at the Beast's snarling jaws, surprised not to have heard the crash of china or the crunch of his own skull._

" _Move aside."_

 _The pitcher didn't move. Mario heard a high voice like a bird's, and he assumed it must be hers._

" _I said move!" the Beast spat._

 _The pitcher slid backwards until Mario felt the cool press of porcelain against his moistened cheek._

" _Neither or both," the pitcher said. "It's your choice, Mistress."_

* * *

Now Waluigi's look of bewilderment mirrored Wario's.

"A water…?

"…pitcher…?"

Wario threw up his hands and leaned back into his armchair. "Okay, now I know you're messing with us!"

"I know it doesn't make sense, but that's what happened!" Mario shouted, his cheeks flushed. "She saved my life!"

"Saved by talking tableware!" Wario hooted. "You're either having a laugh or you're insane!"

"Never mind the pitcher!" said Waluigi. "What about the princess?"

Mario's glare chilled as he turned from Wario to Waluigi. "I didn't say anything about a princess," he said.

Waluigi grimaced at Mario's stupidity. "The princess held captive by the Beast! The lovely princess waiting for her dashing champion! Did! You! See! Her!"

Mario didn't flinch. "I spent four nights in that tower. I didn't see any princess."

Waluigi slammed his hands on the table, rattling the tea cups E. Gadd had courteously placed before them. "She had to be there!" he yelled. "You just didn't look hard enough!"

"I don't know if there was a princess!" Mario shouted back. "It's a big castle! Maybe there was! But, I know that Luigi is there, and the three of us sitting here and arguing isn't going to change that!"

The two men were glaring at each other when they heard the door to E. Gadd's office creak open. "What's all the fuss?" he asked amiably. "Do you boys need a refill?"

Mario and Waluigi leaned back in their chairs, muttering polite refusals. "I'll take one," said Wario.

As soon as E. Gadd had shuffled off with the empty cup ("Might take a while! My darn assistant seems to have run off!"), Mario turned his gaze back to Waluigi. "You're normally the last person I'd go to for help. You know that. But, you knew about the Beast before anyone else. And, you're the only one who can save my brother."

Waluigi and Wario watched, amazed, as Mario bowed his head.

"I'm begging you," he said. "Please, help him."

Waluigi was too astonished to respond, but Mario heard Wario's laughter pounding in his ears. "That's a good look for you! But, are you sure your precious brother is worth groveling like a dog? I remember that guy! He came in all in a panic, convinced you were lost on the road! But, one word from me and he ran off like a kicked kitten! You expect us to brave a monster-infested castle for that spineless wimp?"

Mario's head snapped up, revealing a white hot fury in his blue eyes. If not for his leg, he would have knocked Wario flat on his back, chair and all. "You didn't see him in there! He was terrified! But, he didn't run! He stayed and sacrificed himself for me! You can laugh at him all you want, but he has more guts than both of you combined!"

A disgusted look passed over Waluigi's narrow features, and the legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he jolted abruptly to his feet. "Tell us where the castle is!" he said. "By the end of the week, the Beast's head will be mounted on my wall!"

Mario smirked darkly, but Wario stared at Waluigi, aghast.

"Wait a minute, I didn't agree to this!" Wario cried. He pointed a thick, accusatory finger at Mario. "Why should we risk our lives if he's staying here!"

"But Wario, think of the glory!" Waluigi grabbed the lapels of Wario's jacket and pulled. "Think of the princess!"

Wario irritably used his same finger to push Waluigi back. "There are plenty of fish in the sea! And those fish aren't swimming with bone-snapping beasts!"

Mario watched Wario with a raised eyebrow. "You know…" he said casually, "it's a big castle."

"What's that?"

"That princess. She was rich, wasn't she? It sure looked like it to me." Mario picked up his tea cup and swirled the liquid inside, pretending not to notice how still Wario had gone, like a cat who's spotted the movement of a small, furry animal. "All that furniture, armor, art, and that's just what I could see in the front hall. Why, by my guess just one of those paintings is probably worth tens of thousands of coins."

Mario took a sip of his coffee, taking care to avoid meeting Wario's suddenly ravenous eyes.

The bottom of the cup clinked against the saucer. "Maybe hundreds," he concluded.

Now, it was Wario's turn to stand. "We have to find that castle!"

"That's the spirit!" Waluigi clapped Wario on the back, heartily. "For the princess!"

"For the treasure!"

"For Luigi!" said Mario pointedly. "Do whatever you need to, but don't you dare come back without him!"

"Relax!" Waluigi patted Mario on the hand. Mario whipped his hand away. "We'll bring poor Luigi home! The poor man must be scared out of his wits! Won't he be glad to see us?"

Waluigi sat back in his chair and tented his long fingers with a slavering smile. "Now," he said, "the castle?"

"I can't take you there. Not while I'm like this." Mario grinned wickedly. "But, I know someone who can…"

* * *

Luigi didn't leave the table right away. He'd had to wait until he could trust himself to take a step without bursting. But, each time he swore he was done, he found himself carrying another bite to his mouth. He'd finally begged the servants to take the dishes away before he sunk through the floor.

It was a strange sight to see objects that would fit in perfectly among the dinner set bustle to and fro across the table, clearing plates, scraping crumbs from the tablecloth, carrying the soiled utensils away in an ant-like procession across the floor.

"I feel a little bad," said Luigi, once he'd felt the balloon in his torso begin to deflate, "for not helping."

"It's alright!" said Toadette as she emptied the leftover drinking water into her head. "Don't take it personally, but it didn't look like you could stand!"

Luigi blushed and rubbed his temple. "Sorry."

Peasley chuckled. "Don't be bashful! Your gluttony is naught but a testament to our amazing service!"

"For the last time, you didn't put anything on the table!" Toadsworth said testily as he balanced a stack of plates on his head. "You're not even helping clean up!"

"Sir Peasley," said Peach gently, "instead of bragging, why don't you show Luigi around the castle?"

"Oh, that's a marvelous idea!" Peasley eagerly fluttered over to Luigi. "What would you like to see first? The garden? The gallery? The library?"

"There's a library?" Luigi asked.

"Yes, indeed!" said Peasley proudly. "We boast a proud collection of the finest and rarest tomes anywhere! All the volumes together account for no less than fifteen languages!"

Luigi squirmed in his seat. "Do… Do the books have pictures?"

Toadsworth frowned. "Really now," he said, "don't you think you're a bit old for-?"

"Why, of course they do!" Peasley shouted, suddenly mere inches from Luigi's eyes. The burning heat on his brow overwhelmed the heat in his cheeks. "There are all sorts of gorgeously illuminated manuscripts available for your perusal! Here, follow me!"

Peasley zipped through the door, over the heads of the knickknacks shuffling below. Luigi gratefully followed.

Peasley continued to chatter as they proceeded through the castle's vaulted halls, but Luigi couldn't focus. Though he no longer felt physically ill, his stomach still felt like lead, and his eyes moved from shadow to shadow, straining for any sign of the Beast. But, she did not appear. The thought of her form suddenly looming from the darkness was horrible, but her absence also made him uneasy. Where was she, exactly?

Still, Luigi was comforted by the ambience created by Peasley's voice, though he didn't catch half of what he was saying.

"Ah, here we are!" Peasley finally said. "Through those double doors at the end of the hall."

Luigi took a few steps but then noticed Peasley hovering in place. "You're not coming?" he asked nervously.

"Toadsworth has banished me from the library, I'm afraid." Peasley tapped his waxy hands together in an uncharacteristically embarrassed gesture. "I had a bit of a mishap, once."

The flame atop Peasley's head sputtered. "Ah," said Luigi.

"Give a shout if you need anything!" Peasley winked and floated through one of the side doors, leaving Luigi in the hall.

Abruptly deprived of his companion, Luigi felt bizarrely exposed. It was as though he were a fly, caught on a brightly lit table, and any moment a hand could come down and crush him. He was tempted to call for Peasley and ask him to escort him to the door.

But, the indignity of being walked around like a child was enough to keep Luigi quiet. Instead, he took a deep breath and started across the carpet. In spite of himself, he was curious about the library. What books would they have? What pictures would he see? Was it possible for there to be a book he knew? And, if he did find himself holding a familiar tome, staring down at familiar faces, what would he feel?

But, just as he approached the door, he became aware of a dreamlike echoing sound. He stopped and listened. It was music. The hall took a right angle at the library doors, and from deep within the corridor came the eerie tones of a dark and lovely melody. Luigi stared down the cavernous hall. He felt a shiver run up his spine, but it wasn't only fear. The song was complex, wandering and full of primal emotion, yet there was something clumsy in it. It might have been a piano, but the sound rung as though it were being banged out on chimes.

Luigi didn't know what he would find, but the memory of the tinkling music boxes he'd held in his hands – Oh, it seemed so long ago! – lured him toward the pained and beautiful song.

He arrived at a closed door. He could hear the music – yes, it was definitely a piano – reverberating through the wood. Luigi briefly hesitated before rapping on the door with his knuckles. The music continued without acknowledging the interruption. Luigi supposed that meant he was permitted to enter and opened the door.

As soon as the door moved, the keyboard gave a discordant bang. Luigi looked inside in time to see the lid of a grand piano slam down over the keys. The piano sat in front of an empty bench surrounded by a parlor filled with empty chairs. There was no player in sight. Evidently, the piano had been playing itself. This knowledge had already begun to lose its power to shock Luigi.

"Can I help you?" said the piano.

The voice was sweet and honeylike, but the tone was less than inviting. Luigi gulped. "I didn't mean to intrude," he said. "I just wanted to hear you play."

"Oh, did you?" the piano said. Eerily, nothing on the piano seemed to move as she spoke. The voice seemed to be resonating from somewhere inside the ebony shell. "I don't recall inviting you."

"I'm sorry," said Luigi, blushing. "You play beautifully. _Bravissima."_

"Ooh!" the piano crooned. "You think so?" Evidently, praise was her weakness.

"I do!" said Luigi earnestly. "Though, I think you're out of tune."

A sound like an explosion went off as every key on the keyboard slammed at once. The upright cover repeatedly hammered down onto the wooden frame in an agitated display. Luigi was reminded of the snapping mouths of the Piranha Plants, and he felt his heart hammering faster than the cover.

"I don't need you to tell me I'm out of tune!" the piano wailed. "I know that well enough! Go on! Tell me! Tell me how ugly I sound! I sound like old, worn out junk, is that it? I sound like a child banging pots and pans together, don't I? _Don't I?"_

The cover banged one final time and lay flat as she began to sob. Luigi took a tentative step forward.

"Um," he began, "I can try to tune you up. If you'd like."

A dainty sniffling sound came from within the piano. "What would a bumpkin like you know about tuning a piano?" she said.

Luigi lowered his eyes at the slight, but he did not leave the room. "I don't really play," he admitted, "but I've taken a few tuning jobs in the past."

The piano was silent for a moment. Slowly, the lid opened. "Very well," she said. "I suppose there isn't any more damage you can do."

"Thank you," said Luigi. He didn't dwell on the oddity of thanking the piano for allowing him to help her. Instead he touched his gloved hands to the keys and ran his fingers up and down the board. Each note echoed out as though from the bottom of a well, and two of the keys continued to ring even after Luigi had lifted his hands away.

"So, you can play a C scale," said the piano. "Do you expect me to applaud? I would if I could, believe me."

Luigi ignored her. "Need tools," he muttered. "One second."

He hurried to the door and called. "Peasley!"

Sooner than he expected, Peasley fluttered into sight. "Salutations!"

"Do you have tools for tuning a piano?" Luigi asked.

"I'm sure I can find something. Don't go anywhere!" Peasley fluttered away.

Luigi returned to the piano and continued experimenting with the keys. He was careful not to say so, but he had never seen a keyboard in such sorry shape. Even the most neglected antiques hadn't ailed as much as the instrument before him.

"What's your name?" Luigi asked.

"Melody Pianissima," the piano answered. _"_ _Piacere di conoscerla."_

Luigi smiled. "Oh, you know Italian! _Piacere!_ I'm-"

"Oh, I know who you are," said Melody impatiently. "You're the mistress's new pet."

Luigi's face fell. "Pet? No, I'm… We made a deal-"

"I'm aware of your little arrangement," said Melody, "but what sort of prisoner is allowed to wander wherever he pleases? Or sleeps in a soft bed? Or eats a warm meal with everyone waiting on him hand and foot? Hasn't it occurred to you to wonder what it's all for?"

Melody possessed no visible eyes with which to see his bewildered expression, but even so, Luigi heard her delicate, tinkling laugh. "You must be even slower than I thought!" she giggled.

Before Luigi could even begin to assemble a response, he heard Peasley announcing his return Accompanying his voice was a loud, rhythmic clattering. Luigi turned to see a large toolbox hopping along the floor underneath Peasley.

"Brickle here says he has what you need!" said Peasley.

The toolbox clattered to the foot of the piano and opened with a creak of its hinges. Three shelves of tools unfolded into the musty air.

"Thanks," said Luigi. He picked out a rag neatly folded inside and approached the piano's side. "Could you open the cover please?"

The cover slid open. Luigi pulled the bench to the side and climbed up onto his knees. Even in the low light, Luigi could see a thick layer of downy gray dust that coating the strings. On a morbid impulse, Luigi ran a gloved finger along one of the fur covered wires. Just looking at the gray line left on the fabric made Luigi's nose burn.

"Peasley, could you bring the light?"

Peasley cheerfully acquiesced and hovered over the open piano. "Don't you dare drip wax into me!" Melody warned.

"Worry not, _signorina!_ You forget that I'm a gentleman!" Peasley proclaimed.

Luigi briskly dusted the strings, taking care to sneeze into his sleeve and not into the piano's interior.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" the piano lamented.

"It's no trouble," Luigi lied. "No one's done this in a while, have they?"

"No one can," said Melody. "No person has set foot here in years."

Luigi frowned. It did seem to be true. Without the Beast, the castle was a shell of automata, full of moving and whirring parts without a trace of warm breath. But, was that really all there was?

"Melody," he began slowly, "you seem to know a lot about the castle."

"If you say so," was the lazy reply.

"Well…" Luigi continued, "I heard there was a princess here."

Luigi instantly felt a chill permeate the room.

"A princess!" Peasley laughed perhaps a bit too loudly and a touch too breathily. "What a fanciful idea!"

"Quite." Melody's voice was much colder. "Who told you that?"

Luigi knew he'd made a mistake, but it was too late to backpedal. "Just some people in my village," he said.

"Hmph. _Some people_ really do say the most irresponsible things," said Melody. "Understand this. You and your unfortunate brother are far from the first men to enter this castle. All the others came in search of your supposed princess."

Luigi shuddered. He knew how the story ended.

"Melody." Peasley's voice was as subdued as Luigi had heard it. "There's no need to go into all of that."

"He's the one who wanted to know," said Melody. "Remember this, _signore._ We have never served anyone but the mistress. You've been allowed to live, so you have a lifetime to explore this castle. Even so, you will never find any princess."

 _A lifetime._ Luigi recoiled inwardly from the endless, empty days stretched before him. He said nothing, willing his hands to continue moving over the dusty wires, watching the uncovered metal gleam in the candle's flame. These sensations, this task, would drive all else from his mind. Just for the moment, he wanted to feel nothing at all.

* * *

Iron blue clouds had choked the sky, and an early dark had settled over the rooftops when Popple strolled into the tavern on the square. In the empty space, Peeka easily heard the jingling in his pockets accompany the ringing of the bell above the door.

"We're still setting up in here," she said.

"Hey, don't sweat it, dollface," said Popple. "I just need to put my feet up, see?" Popple spun one of the chairs Peeka had just taken down on its leg and pulled himself onto it in what Peeka supposed was meant to be a suave maneuver. "You would not believe the crazy night I had!"

Peeka knew he was waiting for her to ask, but her smiling lips remained pressed together as she flipped the chairs from the tables. "Actually, it's good that you're here early," she said instead. "The boss wanted to talk to you."

"Eh?" Popple frowned and sat up in his chair. "What for?"

"Beats me. He's in the back. You know where it is."

Puzzled, Popple slid off the chair and headed for the storage room behind the bar. Behind him, he heard a squeak as Peeka pushed his chair back into place.

Waluigi was standing before the casks, pouring himself a glass of Chuckola Cola. He turned and smirked as Popple poked his head inside. "Popple! Good to see you back in town!"

Popple strutted inside. "Yo, beanpole! What's this about?"

He heard the door slam behind him. Popple turned and saw Wario leaning with his palm splayed out against the door. "Chief!" said Popple with some surprise. "You're here, too? Is this some kind of party or something?"

"Not a party, exactly. No" Wario pulled in his arm and pressed his back to the door. "We've heard you've been causing some trouble for the citizens."

Popple chuckled. "You know me! Trouble's my middle name, see? I guess Greenie tried to squeal on me, huh?"

"So, you've met Luigi?" Waluigi asked casually.

"Yeah, that was the name," said Popple. "So, this green bozo comes up to me and starts running his mouth, see? Keeps saying I pulled a fast one on his brother or something. Boo! Boo, I say! I ask ya, does that sound like me?"

Wario and Waluigi laughed heartily at the joke. Popple joined along, but his own laughter trailed when he took in how heavily Wario leaned against the door. "Say, uh, you never did tell me what this was about," he said.

"That crime you didn't commit, do you remember where it was?" Wario asked.

"Uh, I remember where it wasn't, seeing as it didn't happen," said Popple. "Do you want a cut? Is that it? You don't have to shut me in here for that."

"Not this time," said Wario pleasantly. "We need you to take us there. To the scene where the crime didn't happen."

Popple jumped in agitation. "What? This again? Boo! Boo, I say! What about that spot is so darn special, anyhow?"

"What's the matter, Popple? Don't you like it there?" asked Waluigi innocently.

"Heck, no! I nearly died out there, see? That place is crawling with those toothy weeds! You couldn't pay me to go back there!"

"Well, that's too bad, Popple, because that's exactly where we need to go," said Waluigi. "There's a castle there, and our poor friend Luigi is in the grip of a bloodthirsty beast. You wouldn't want to get in the way of our rescue, would you?"

Popple stared. "You two are nuts! Totally bonkers, see? I didn't see no castle out there, and that green rookie is probably fertilizer by now! I ain't turning myself to mulch just 'cause youse guys knocked a screw loose!"

Waluigi and Wario's smiles remained fixed in place. "Say, Wario," said Waluigi, "what's the penalty for highway robbery around here?"

"Oh, we take that sort of thing very seriously!" said Wario. "I'd say that would get you about five years. Of course, for a repeat offender, the sentence could be much more severe!"

Popple jumped then broke into a wide, nervous grin. "H-hey! I didn't realize this was so important to ya! Sure, I can take you there, no problem, see? We're all friends, ain't we?"

Over the top of Popple's cap, Waluigi and Wario exchanged a grin.

* * *

The first snow drifted gently on the night wind. The feather-like shards did not so much fall as sink lazily down past the towers and open-mouthed gargoyles to press against the earth below. Occasionally, a flake drifted close to kiss the high windows and vanish, but soon the glass would be crisscrossed by delicate webs of ice. The rustling world around the castle gradually began to hush.

Peasley had already lit the fireplace, and Luigi sat alone on the window sill, swinging his legs idly above the bedroom floor as he watched the snow fall from the corner of his eye. He tried to lose himself in the flurry, but with his work done and his hands idle, it was impossible. Melody Pianissima's words remained whirling in his brain.

She had been overflowing with joy when the final pin had been tightened and her sound rang out clear and pure. Luigi had smiled at the birdlike fluttering of her keys as she reveled in her renewed beauty. But now, her ecstasy and gratitude had drifted away, and only her jeering, mocking words remained, chilling his brain and preventing his rest.

A pet. That's what she'd called him. He was wanted for something. But, what? Luigi wracked his brain, but he could think of nothing he would possibly be needed for. No purpose, no desire could be fulfilled by keeping him alive and comfortable. True, he could tune a piano, but he doubted he had been imprisoned here just for that. Why had she brought him to this room, to his bed? Why was he not in the tower?

Was he simply a toy? Her toy? That would make some sense. She would not be the first to see him that way. But, it didn't seem as though the Beast liked him enough even for that. Waluigi had always smirked when Luigi wandered into his sights. The Beast hadn't spared him even that.

Luigi wearily supposed the answer would eventually reveal itself. After all, he had all the time in the world. A lifetime.

Luigi suddenly turned and pulled his knees on the windowsill. Something stirring on the grounds below had caught his eye. Luigi pressed his hands and nose to the glass and looked down into the courtyard far beneath his feet. Even in the dark, the serpentine form of the Beast stood out against the thickening blanket of snow, dull brass against white glitter. She had flopped down into the grounds from the wall. Was she… limping? No. She was _pulling_ something. Something heavy and unwieldy, yet strangely springy. A dark trail smeared the snow behind her steps.

Luigi sucked in a breath and recoiled from the window. It was an animal she was dragging through the snow. He had seen the dark outline of the head flopping against her jaw. He remembered Peasley's look of discomfort that morning. _"She usually prefers to dine alone."_

Luigi hastily drew the curtains shut and dived beneath the bedsheets. He felt sick. He'd never turned up his nose at the smell of cooking meat, but he'd also never liked walking past the butcher shop, seeing the parts all disconnected and spread out, raw and dripping. That same flesh was filling her mouth, being sawed apart by her teeth.

That could easily have been him…

Luigi shuddered and curled into a ball in his pocket of sheets. There was one small shred of comfort to be found. That animal she had claimed looked, far, far larger than him. There was no way he would ever be enough to appetize her. It wasn't much, but he clung to the thought all the same.

* * *

The deer's body being pulled through the snow made a rushing sound like the runners of a sled. The Beast's jaw was painfully clenched, and her neck had grown sore. She had dropped the sagging head into the snow and was beginning to lick the blood from her claws when she saw a lighted window above go dim. She looked up and saw a sheet of fabric glowing translucently in the window. Someone had just drawn a curtain. Funny, that window had always been dark before.

With a sinking feeling, the Beast realized that the window in question belonged to a guest bedroom, a room that had until recently been empty. He had seen her, then, sloshing through freezing blood, lugging a dead animal against her flank, and he'd turned away. He must be disgusted by her. A filthy, feral animal.

How cruel that beggar had been. It would have been kinder simply to have made her disappear.

With a revulsion that matched that in her imagination, the Beast picked up her prey by the throat and continued her slow, burdened crawl over the freezing courtyard.

* * *

 **AN:**

 _I lived._

 _A good alternate title for this chapter would be "Mario, No!" Still, Mario is more cunning and more ruthless than we realize. He's a good man, but he's devious. Play_ Superstar Saga _and_ Bowser's Inside Story _to see what I'm talking about._

 _Peach has nerves of steel. Well, of course that's canon. You have to have an iron will to be kidnapped hundreds of times without showing a trace of Stockholm Syndrome. Peach knows what she's about. Perhaps that's what it means to be a pure soul. But, what do I know?_

 _Melody is not a ghost in this version, by the way. If_ Luigi's Mansion 3 _had come out before I started this story, would I have cast Amadeus Wolfgeist instead? Both the keyboard characters in the Disney franchise are male, but still, I think I would have stuck with Melody. I wonder if anyone is confused as to why she's acting so nasty. But, Melody was never a saint. Plus, she's had to listen to herself slowly deteriorate over the course of 99 years. That would make anyone bitter!_

 _By the way, what song do you think she was playing? Considering her tastes, I like to think it was "In the Final" from_ Bowser's Inside Story. _You can find some pretty sick piano covers of that song on YouTube. A close friend of mine has told me that's his favorite musical track from any video game ever. Yoko Shimamura is the real beast here._

 _The scene where Daisy drags in her kill from the forest is based on a deleted scene from the 1991 Disney film where the Beast does the same thing. Supposedly, the scene was cut for being too scary for children. Still, though we don't see it, the existence of the scene is still implied in the presence of animal hides scattered through the West Wing in both the animated and live action versions. Also cut for the same reason was a sequence where Gaston and Lefou actually visit the insane asylum to meet with Monsieur D'Arque. in the final film, D'Arque comes to them at the tavern instead. Considering what those asylums were like in real life, it's chilling to think of what we might have seen in there._

 _I know I'm late on this, but I'd like to take a moment to thank Alphadream for 19 years of awesome games. Your games were made with love and played with love. Thank you for everything._

 _Be sure to leave a review and happy holidays! Ciao!_


	7. Don't Walk Away

**Chapter Seven: Don't Walk Away**

As he was finishing his breakfast, which was much more reasonably proportioned than the day before, Luigi was approached by a large grandfather clock. The booming impact as it banged over the floor had spattered Luigi's water over the edges of the glass and onto the tablecloth. Toadsworth sputtered a series of reprimands involving disturbing the guest and scuffing the floor and numerous other grievances, but the clock ignored him and carried itself right to the empty space beside Luigi's chair. A round, dark mouth moved under the clock's ornate hands. "It's Luigi, right?" it said.

"Yes?" said Luigi uneasily. "Can I help you?"

The clock bent its face toward the floor in a valiant attempt at bowing. "So sorry to bother hoo like this," it said, "but, well, I heard how you fixed Melody the other hoo, and I was wondering if maybe you could lend me a hoo."

Luigi blinked. "Is there something wrong with you, too?"

"Hoo listen and tell me," the clock continued. "What do you hear?"

The clock was silent. Luigi looked around awkwardly. "Nothing?" he said slowly.

"Exactly!" the clock exclaimed. "There is no ticking! Not a single tick! If there's no ticking, there's no tocking. And, if there's no tocking, there's no chiming. And, if there's no chiming, there's no hooing! What good is a silent clock to any hoo?"

"Hmmm…" Luigi peered through the glass door at the heavy, golden tubes hanging far below the still pendulum. "When was the last time you adjusted the weights?"

"This morning!" cried the distressed clock. "Every time I wind my hoo, I never last more than an hour! Isn't there anything you can hoo?"

Luigi rubbed his chin. "You might need to be oiled," he said. He reached toward the door. "Do you mind if I look inside?"

The clock shuffled backwards with a loud scrape, earning a scandalized hiss from Toadsworth. "In front of all these people?" it fretted. "I'd hoo of embarrassment!"

"Oh," said Luigi, not quite sure what to make of that. "In that case, would you feel better if we stepped into the hallway?"

Luigi slid out of his chair as the clock thanked him. "Peasley? Do you think you could find Brickle again?"

Peasley grinned and wagged a finger. "I have a better idea!" he proclaimed.

* * *

They ended up going quite a bit further than the hallway. Peasley led Luigi and his lumbering patient out onto the icy grounds and into a small, stone shed built into the side of the castle wall. Peasley flew in through an open window, and Luigi could hear a tiny rattling on the other side of the door that meant he was probably struggling with the handle. With a sigh that released a plume of steam into the air, Luigi pushed open the door himself.

Peasley had prattled on in his usual way for the entire walk outside, but he had been surprisingly secretive about where exactly they were headed. Luigi had supposed it was some kind of tool shed, albeit one much larger than he had ever seen. Instead, he saw a gleaming workshop, exactly the sort in which a child might imagine toys were made. Neat rows of tools, polished the silver of newly minted eights, hung on the wall in rows ordered from smallest to largest, producing a visual effect like the keys on a new xylophone. The workbench emitted the soft glow of carefully sanded and oiled wood, and the hollows in the tightly wound rolls of draft paper were like honeycomb. The room carried the sweet smell of lumber, and it was the smell that hit Luigi the hardest.

Luigi struggled to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. It was beautiful. It was familiar. But, it was not his workshop. These were not his tools.

Peasley looked up from where he floated above the now crackling furnace. "Well, don't just stand there in the cold!" he called.

Luigi cleared his throat. "Right." He turned and beckoned the clock inside.

Much like Melody the day before, the clock was in worse shape than Luigi had anticipated. He also hadn't known what to expect when he started to remove the gears and cogs and was somewhat unnerved when the clock's face continued talking even with its mechanisms on the table. "Will this take long?" "What are you hooing now?" "How much longer?" But, the clock's voice soon faded away as Luigi's fingers moved busily over the gears. Everything inside and out slipped away, leaving only the motion and the warmth that crept into the muscles. For the first time in days, Luigi's body relaxed even as his arms moved. But, as soon as he became aware of his newfound ease, it was gone.

The trick was not to think about it. To lose himself in the task.

Too soon, everything was back inside and Luigi was grasping the heavy chain as he wound the golden weights up into the clock's chamber. Thankfully, there was enough sun that Peasley could check the time on the sundial. Within moments, the clock was chiming a quarter past eleven.

Its outpourings of gratitude were even louder.

"You did it!" Luigi had seen this clock inside and out and hadn't found any tear ducts, but he could swear the clock was sobbing. "Thank you so, so much! From the bottom of my hoo!"

Luigi rubbed the back of his head, blushing. "Uh, that should keep you going for a few years," he said. "But, if you feel yourself starting to slow down again, just tell me, okay?"

Luigi pulled open the door to let the clock back outside. At first, Luigi thought the clock had been so overcome with emotion that it had knocked itself into the door frame, but then he realized the impact had actually come from a second furniture piece outside. Luigi heard the clock say, "Oops! Watch your hoo!" before a large wardrobe appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, thank goodness!" it cried. "You're still here!"

Luigi feared for the integrity of the door frame as the wardrobe struggled to enter the workshop, but somehow it managed to squeeze itself through. "Do… you need help, too?" Luigi asked.

"Do I ever! Listen to this!" The entire wooden frame of the wardrove shuttered, and a dark slit appeared in between its finely painted doors. Luigi's ears were skewered by the creaking groan of an ancient sarcophagus as the door inched open with agonizing slowness. Luigi felt blades raking the inside of skull, and he glimpsed Peasley cringing in a similar manner.

"That sounds awful!" Luigi exclaimed sympathetically. "How long have you been like that?"

"Oh, I don't know anymore!" the wardrobe moaned. "But, I swear, if I have to listen to that sound just one more day, I'll definitely lose my mind!"

Luigi pulled his finger from where it had been swabbing his ear. "It's the hinges," he said. "Let me take a look."

Luigi unscrewed the hinges from the doors and found their insides completely rusted through. Luckily, there were suitable replacements in the workshop, and the wardrobe's doors flapped open and closed with the ease of book covers.

"Oh, thank you! You're an angel!" the wardrobe cried. It swung out its doors and clasped Luigi into a very hard, flat embrace. Luigi's face was suddenly thrust into a row of moldy coat sleeves. He violently sneezed out years of dust as the wardrobe pulled away.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" said the wardrobe as Luigi rubbed his watering eyes. "How embarrassing!"

"It's okay," Luigi sniffed. He opened the door to let out the wardrobe, but it had only squeezed one corner outside before Luigi heard a tiny voice chirping from the snow. "FYI! FYI!" it exclaimed. "Watch your step!"

The wardrobe pulled itself away, and Luigi looked down to see a tiny, windup bird sitting in the snow by the door. Luigi hastily reached down and scooped it into his palm. The key in the bird's back was not so much spinning as jerking. Its right foot circled smoothly down and pulled the bird toward Luigi's wrist, but the left foot jerked and twitched underneath the bird's body. Luigi couldn't imagine how it got outside on its own.

"You poor thing," he murmured.

"Birdley is poor thing!" the bird agreed. "Birdley has been waiting! Birdley needs help!"

"Birdley, let the poor man have a break!" said Peasley. "He's been working since breakfast!"

"No, it's really okay," said Luigi. He closed the door and carried Birdley to the workbench. Peasley fluttered overheard.

"Are you certain you're not tired, Luigi?" Peasley asked.

Luigi mopped his brow with his cap. "No," he said firmly. "Bring the light closer."

Peasley obeyed.

* * *

She had been sinking down into a dreamless sleep when a distant knocking drew her back up. The Beast opened one eye. The sound stopped, and the eye closed, its owner thinking perhaps that that would be the end of it, before the knocking resumed and both eyes flew open.

The Beast lifted her head and irritably squinted down the hallway. The sound was too soft to be originating nearby and yet just loud enough to be impossible to ignore. The Beast uncurled from the pool of sunlight where she had been dozing and groggily ambled off in pursuit of the sound.

It took several minutes of listening at doors and peering out of windows before she found the source. Down below, he was kneeling on the roof of the stable with a hammer in hand and Brickle lying open by his knee. The roof was completely clear of snow – the Beast could see it piled around the sides of the stable – and freshly cut planks of lay side by side over the old, rotting wood. As she watched, she saw him pull a nail out from under his mustache, press it to the corner of the one of the planks, and begin hammering it into place.

The Beast stared. What kind of man was this, anyway? What kind of person went from quivering in fear to fixing his captor's roof in the span of only two days? It wasn't as though she'd threatened or even hinted he should do it. Never, in her wildest delirium, would it have occurred to her to do such a thing. Yet, there he was. What did he think he was doing? Did one of the staff put him up to it? Was he hoping to be paid? Was he trying to get in her good graces? Had he simply lost his mind? What on Earth had compelled him to do this?

Luigi, for his part, had used the last nail between his teeth. As he reached inside for more, he suddenly felt a funny prickle out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and looked up to the castle above, but all the windows were dark.

Luigi gazed upward for only a moment more before fanning a bundle of nails between his fingertips.

* * *

The kitchen was submerged in warmth and noise. Suds and water droplets hit the floors and counter tops as scrubbing brushes wheeled over plates by themselves, dish towels whirled over plates of their own accord, and dishes neatly stacked themselves into cupboards.

Several plates pivoted on their edges on the counter above, waiting. Luigi knelt below them with the door of the empty cupboard in his lap. The wood had torn away from the top hinge, causing the door to hang askew from its lower corner and show the darkness of the cupboard even when the door was closed. Luigi twisted the screwdriver in his fingers, freeing the other hinge. Peasley hovered overhead, and Brickle waited just to the side.

The dishes and brushes above halted in midair as the Beast's form appeared in the doorway, but Luigi, bent over his task, didn't notice the sudden stillness all around him. Nor did he notice when the Beast loped around the table and lowered herself to the floor against the row of cabinets, just a few feet away from Luigi.

He didn't notice, that is, until he heard Peasley's voice peal in the silence: "Mistress!" As Peasley bowed, Luigi turned, saw the pattern of copper scales and attempted to jolt to his feet. Luigi, however, miscalculated the length of countertop jetting over the cabinets, and his cap provided only minimal cushioning when he cracked the top of his skull into the underside of the counter.

Luigi sank back down onto the floor, whimpering and clutching his head. The corner of the Beast's mouth twitched, but she managed to suppress it by the time Luigi tearfully turned back to look at her.

"You alright?" she asked.

At any other time, that the Beast had asked after his wellbeing would have given him pause, but now the pounding in his head was making it hard to think about anything. All he could do was whimper, "I'm fine."

The Beast said nothing. Luigi lowered his gaze to the floor, but he could still feel her eyes on him. He waited for her to say something, perhaps give some indication of why she was here, but she did not. The entire kitchen was still, and he could hear her breathing, low as a tide.

He finally raised his eyes again. "Is there something you wanted?" he asked.

"No," she said.

Silence.

Luigi fretted as his head throbbed. If she didn't want anything, why was she here? Please, leave! But, he felt that to voice such a request, no matter how politely, would be suicidal. Was this some kind of test? Was there something she expected him to do? In the back of his throat, he felt a burn of frustration. After all she had put him through, what right did she have to test him?

He finally decided there was nothing for it but to go back to work. After all, she hadn't told him to stop. He briefly considered shifting his position so that she was in front of him instead of to his side so that he might keep his eyes on her as he worked, but the thought of her asking why he was moving was so terrifying, that he knew the only option was to remain where he was.

He turned away from the Beast and pulled the door back into his lap. The screwdriver turned.

After a few moments, he heard the bustle of the kitchen resume. He looked over his shoulder. The Beast was no longer there. Luigi let out a huge breath he forgot he'd been holding.

"Here." He heard Peach's voice above him and looked up to see her lowering a bundle toward him. He grabbed it and felt ice cubes clicking together underneath the cloth. He pressed the ice bag to the top of his head. "Thank you," he said.

Peach gave him a smile and disappeared over the countertop.

"Good for you, Luigi, standing your ground!" said Peasley brightly. "You have nerves of steel!"

"Me? Oh, no!" Luigi shook his head and winced at the accompanying pain. "I'm always terrified."

"There's no need for fear!" Peasley pulled the needle out of his side and brandished it in the air. "Not with your shining knight Sir Peasley by your side!"

Luigi smiled appreciatively, but he knew Peasley would do nothing against the Beast. "How can you stand living here?" he asked. "Aren't you scared?"

"Oh, Luigi," said Peasley, "where else would we go?"

* * *

For the rest of the day, the Beast did not appear, and Luigi soon found much more to occupy his mind. The castle, which had seemed so sturdy and imposing from the outside, was riddled with aches and pains. There were chair legs that needed replacing and windows that stuck and floors that were rotted through. And, when Luigi not only patched a broken headboard but repainted it as well, so smoothly that it looked as though the surface beneath the gleaming coat had never been cracked at all, a whole new set of tasks quickly presented themselves as word quickly spread throughout the castle that Luigi could paint. Brush in hand, Luigi attended to doors, murals, shelves, and tiny, gracious dolls whose shells of color had been chipped away by time and accidents. Luigi was so busy that Peasley and Toadette had to practically drag him to the dining room so he wouldn't miss his meals. And, as soon as lunch and dinner were over, he was right back to it, painting, sawing, hammering.

The only one this seemed to worry was Peach.

"Isn't he worn out?" Peach asked.

"We asked him. He said he wasn't," said Toadette.

"I think it's good for a man to keep busy," said Toadsworth. "It's about time these things were taken care of."

"Hmmm…" was all Peach said.

The moonlight found the windows of the workshop still lit as Luigi painstakingly brushed red shadows into the petals on a vase. The bottom of the vase whispered softly into the cloth underneath as Luigi turned the rim with his fingers.

Beside him, he heard Peasley yawn.

Luigi turned and saw Peasley leaning on his needle with his waxy cheek cushioned on his arm. He struggled to keep his eyes open. "Pardon me!" he said dazedly.

Luigi became suddenly aware of the weight in his own eyelids. "Why don't we stop for tonight?" he said.

"I'm wide awake!" Peasley insisted. "The night is still-" Here, a second yawn, even longer than the first, interrupted him.

"It's fine," said Luigi. "Why don't you head up? I can clean up in here."

"As you wish!" Peasley gave a noodle-limbed bow that nearly sent him tumbling off the candle holder. He straightened. "I'll tell the others to get a bath running for you." With that, he fluttered out the window and into the night.

Luigi swirled the paintbrush into the dish of water nearby. "We'll have to finish up tomorrow," he said. "Don't move for at least an hour."

"You got it!" said the vase.

Up in the castle, Peasley and Toadette watched as water poured into the cauldron over the fireplace.

"You left him by himself?" Toadette asked. "Are you sure he'll be able to find his way to the washroom?"

"He'll be fine!" said Peasley. "He's spent all day tromping up and down this castle. By now, he'll know it better than the back of his hand!"

* * *

Luigi was lost. He had tried to make his way to back up to his room, but he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and then taken a second turn attempting to correct himself, and now he was hopelessly lost in a maze of halls and corridors he didn't recognize. Several times he had approached decorative bowls and sconces and asked for directions and gotten only silence in response. The slowly dawning realization that he had been talking to an inanimate object and honestly expecting a response was always humiliating, though, at the very least, there didn't seem to be anyone around to see his blunder.

Luigi walked up a staircase that he thought he'd taken down to this floor and found himself on a completely unfamiliar landing. Again. The wild thought occurred to him that the castle's layout was changing when he wasn't looking. But, a more likely explanation was that he was just tired. He'd had many busy days where he only emerged from his own studio at mealtimes, and even then only at Mario's insistence, and had gone to bed with his back and shoulders cracking. The repeated marches he'd taken up and down the castle staircases had only added to that fatigue, and now every time he moved, Luigi felt something in his frame pop. He thought longingly of the bath being drawn for him and wondered how many days it would take him to find it.

Perhaps it would be best simply to find a soft surface and wait for someone to come across him. Luigi was just wondering if it would be best to check a room for a comfortable piece of furniture or simply fall to the floor where he would be out in the open when he spotted a dark bar between a set of moonlit double doors at the end of the hall. It took Luigi's weather-beaten brain a moment to realize that the doors were ajar and what he was seeing was the shadowed space beyond them.

Hardly knowing what he was doing, Luigi started toward the parted doors. Perhaps someone had just gone inside, someone who could lead him back downstairs. He called out as he pulled the carved handle. "Hello? Can someone help me?"

Only his own voice echoed back out of the darkness. He took one step inside and immediately felt something crack under the toe of his boot. He looked down and saw dark fractals spreading from under his shoe through the silver shards of glass all around. As Luigi's eyes adjusted to the newfound darkness, the shapes of utter chaos manifested all around him. Splintered wooden frames jutted over the floor like ruins of a sunken ship. Torn and ragged fabrics bled themselves over every surface. White feathers, presumably torn from a goose down pillow, lay along the edges of the hall, shunted aside by years of passing feet. And, aside from the feathers and broken glass, there was so many bits and pieces of broken things whose original shapes Luigi could not even begin to guess.

Underneath it all, there was a faint scent of something musty and gamey. Luigi sniffed, trying to recall what it reminded him off, and he thought of the mare blowing its nostrils beside his brother's carriage. That warm, animal smell.

Luigi was wide awake now as he stood in the entrance of that ruined place. He was certain this was something he was not supposed to see. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, close the door, forget he had ever been here. But, he knew forgetting would be impossible. How could he continue throughout his day, see Peasley and the other's smiling faces when he knew that this lay in wait upstairs? He remembered the nervous tone of Peasley's voice when he'd asked about the princess. There were things they didn't want him to ask about. The smart thing to do would be to respect their wishes.

But.

But, when he thought of Peasley then, he also thought of Melody. _"You're the mistress's new pet."_ A pet wouldn't bother itself with its mistress's strange ways. A pet would accept there were things about its mistress's behavior it would never understand. It would never occur to a pet to do otherwise.

Were they lying to him? Using him?

Perhaps the answer was in here.

He looked around. He had encountered no one on the long, haphazard walk here. "Hello?" he called one more time. "Anyone?"

Silence. Luigi took a deep breath and closed the door behind him.

He stepped gingerly over the floor, wary of pressing too hard into the carpet and hearing more crackling underneath. It didn't take him long to find the source of the glass shards. A shattered mirror lay propped up against a torn wall. Luigi saw his own image duplicated in the remaining shards beneath the web, sections of his fearful face doubled and stacked on top of one another.

The wallpaper behind the mirror was torn. Luigi could see scar-like rips, frayed white at the edges, raking the wall from ceiling to floor. In the middle of these scars were deep grooves where something pointed had dug into the wall. Luigi shuddered and walked on.

Luigi stepped gingerly around the frame of another mirror laying on its face, its silver shards and powder gorged over the floor. His foot came down on something soft. He squinted and made out the formless shape of a thick rug pushed against the wall. No, not a rug. The pounding in Luigi's chest quickened as he realized what he'd thought were rugs and fabrics were actually pelts. The animal that had worn this skin had been big and shaggy. Clumps of its fur had come dislodged and rolled over themselves on the floor, and Luigi realized it was not dust motes tickling his nose.

Luigi's shaking did nothing to relieve the chill that had now spread through his chest and stomach. He thought he saw the gleam of bone out of one eye and suppressed the urge to vomit. If she caught him in here, perhaps this room was where he would remain. That thought was enough to make him turn and go back, but as he did so, he rammed his hip into the corner of a nearby dresser.

Luigi sucked in a breath, not just because of the pain in his hip bone, which was quite sharp, but because the sound of his impact into the wood had seemed as loud as a voice screaming, "HEY!" Luigi clapped his hand over his gasping mouth and listened for an accusatory voice or feral roar, but there was nothing. The pain subsided, and he was reaching down to push the dresser back into its original position when something caught his eye.

It was the edge of a frame, gilded much like the frames of the shattered mirrors. Someone had stashed it behind the dresser, which was just large enough to obscure the frame completely. What was in this frame that it was hidden like this? It couldn't be another mirror. Why hide this one when the others were scattered in the open? Luigi grabbed the frame and wriggled it out from where it had been pinned to the wall. It took a few steps backwards until it was completely free. He carefully flipped it onto the floor and stepped back.

A large tear, much like the ones in the wall, ran across the surface of the painting inside the frame. It was a portrait of someone sitting in a chair. The head and most of the chest had been torn away, but Luigi could see the full, golden folds of a luxurious skirt. The toe of one delicate shoe poked out from under the intricately laced edge of the skirt. The artist had added a small half circle of soft paint for the skin in between the shoe and cloth. Lying in the lap, just barely touching the rip, was one elegantly folded hand, the thin fingers and back covered by a white glove.

Luigi's mind was reeling. He stepped back in jerks. The animal smell made him feel faint, and he felt the whole room listing.

There _was_ a princess. Who else could this be but a princess? No common woman would wear a dress like that. And even if they did, Luigi hadn't seen any humans in this castle except himself and Mario. Why was there a painting of a woman? Why was it torn?

" _You will never find any princess."_ Was that a lie, then? Was she here, with him? Was she even still alive?

A gust of icy wind blew through the corridor. Luigi jumped and whirled around in time to see a curtain hung from a broken rod settle back into place. But, just before it did, Luigi had caught a glimpse of a golden light.

Luigi stared. He could still see its faint halo shining through the ragged curtain. It didn't flicker but glowed steadily like the moon. Luigi left the painting and walked toward where the curtain swayed. He pushed it aside.

In front of the open window leading to a starlit balcony was a single, marble table, carved as intricately as the gargoyles that spread their wings against the vaulted ceilings. And there, hovering just over the polished surface, was a single, orange rose whose exquisite petals glowed with the soft hue of a candle flame. The rose floated beneath a delicate glass bell jar, casting its radiant glow over the entire space. It was as though the bell jar were a lantern with a flower in its center rather than a flame.

Luigi approached, his fearful heart somehow soothed. The books in the library had contained pictures of fantastic magic, but no drawing, no artist could capture this sight. Luigi softly touched his gloved fingers to the glass over the rose, spellbound. He could see several petals scattered in a curled bed underneath the cut stem, but even with petals missing, the rose was achingly beautiful.

"Hello," he said to it. So many strange things had spoken to him over the last few days, he hoped perhaps this flower would as well. But, it said nothing, just quietly twinkled with its own gentle light.

Luigi lifted his fingers away from the rose and spotted a hand mirror lying face down beside the bell jar. Its handle and back seemed as though they were also made of glass. Luigi picked up the mirror and turned it in his hand. Surprisingly, the mirror's surface was pristine, completely unmarred by even the tiniest scratch. Why was this mirror whole when all the others lay in pieces? Luigi looked idly into the mirror.

His reflection showed a second pair of blue eyes looming over his shoulder.

Luigi screamed and started forward in blind terror. His chest slammed heavily into the edge of the table, sending it rocking on its single marble leg. The table managed to right itself, but not before the rim of the bell jar slipped over the edge and toppled over to the floor.

The Beast ripped past Luigi with enough speed to send his cloak rippling. The glass rang at the touch of her claws as she caught the bell jar. The rose remained suspended in place within it, as though caught within a web. As Luigi watched, chills wracking his body, he saw a petal swing off the rose as though from a single hinge. Somewhere, hidden in the folds of the plant, a necessary thread snapped, and the petal broke away from the whole and drifted down to touch the side of the bell jar. Its glow extinguished, the rotted petal slid down the tube onto the floor.

There was a soft clink as the Beast set the bell jar back on the table.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked.

Luigi had never heard her voice so low and dangerous. Mario had. Luigi slinked back. "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered.

The Beast turned her long head towards him. The whites of her eyes gleamed hellishly in the rose's light. "Are you some kind of idiot?" she snarled. "Do you think you can just go wherever you want?"

"I'm sorry!" Luigi cried again. He felt the wind from outside rip through him again. The Beast was stalking toward him, her lips rippling over her teeth.

"'I'm sorry!'" she echoed bitterly. "'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' Is that all you have to say? Do you really think that's good enough? You clumsy idiot! Don't you realize what you DID?"

"I didn't mean to!" Luigi sobbed as he backed away. "I really didn't!"

He held out a hand in front of his face as though it could shield him and felt his forearm seized in the Beast's grip. "Don't you walk away from me!" she roared.

Luigi grabbed her hand with his own, trying to push it off, but his fingers weren't even long enough to encircle her wrist. He felt the points of her claws digging into his flesh. The lolling head of the animal from last night came into his mind, unbidden, and tears shone on his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Please! You're hurting me!" he cried.

"Look at me!" she was saying. "Look at me!"

"DON'T!" Luigi wailed. With one tug, he ripped his arm free.

He heard his sleeve tear. Something else tore.

He clutched just below the elbow and stepped back slowly. His back hit the moldy curtain behind him. All of the fury seem to have gone from her eyes as she stared at him.

A dark stain was spreading over Luigi's torn sleeve. Red seeped into the crevices of his fingers.

Luigi lifted his hand and saw the red stain over the palm of his glove. He looked from the stain to her.

"I… I…!" she was saying.

Luigi turned and fled. The curtain moved faintly as he tore past it. She heard the rhythmic tinkle of glass as his steps thudded on the floor.

She curled in onto herself and covered her eyes with her hands. _Don't look at me,_ she thought, insanely. _Don't look._

But, of course, there was no one around to look.

* * *

The rooms and corridors were a blur. Luigi didn't know how he got through them. He didn't know anything. All he knew was that his feet were carrying him down the main staircase in the foyer. In his thoughtless, senseless terror, he had found his way there.

Toadsworth was at the foot of the stairs when Luigi came hurtling down them. He stared, astonished, as Luigi stumbled past the bottom step.

"There you are!" he said. "We've been looking all over for you!"

Luigi didn't respond. He didn't turn. He didn't even slow down. Toadsworth watched, wide-eyed, as Luigi sprinted for the door. "Where in heaven's name are you going?" he cried.

"I'm going! I have to go!" He pulled frantically on the door, throwing his entire weight into each tug. The heavy wood groaned as it swung inward. The frigid wind blew Luigi's cloak aside, and Toadsworth saw the stain.

"Luigi! You're hurt!" he said.

Luigi looked back. Toadsworth's frightened expression gave him pause, but it wasn't enough to stop him.

"I'm sorry!" he said. He yanked himself through the door.

"Wait!" Toadsworth rushed forward, holding his wooden arms out desperately. "You can't go! It's not safe!"

But, the door had already slammed shut.

* * *

Over the courtyard, a brief fumbling with the gate, and into the snowy woods. Luigi's feet slid out from under him in the snow, and he tumbled head over heels down the slope. Each breath sawed its way in and out of his chest, and he felt the taste and dryness of exertion in his mouth and the back of throat, but even so he pushed himself back to his feet and kept running.

He'd promised. He traded himself for Mario's life. That was the price he had paid. But, he couldn't. He just couldn't. He hadn't agreed to die at her hands. He hadn't agreed to have her eyes on him in his last painful moments. Mario was back home somewhere, and he would find him. They would go far away. They would never look back.

Luigi's foot caught on a snag underneath the snow, and he was sent sprawling. Something sharp jabbed into his ribs, and he pulled himself up on his good arm, wincing. Within the snow, which at its surface seemed so smooth and pristine, was an unseen, organic tangle. Twisting branches, fox holes, slithering roots, all the detritus of the forest was still here, waiting to snare and trip any passerby. The whole forest floor was a complex network of hidden traps. Luigi clutched his chest, which was thankfully not bleeding, and panted heavily over the snow. But, the air was so cold every breath seemed to coat his lungs with an icy film. He tried to breathe in through his nose, hoping to warm the air on its way to his chest.

A snow bank was pressing against his wounded arm. The cold felt soothing on his scratches. His arm pressed in and lifted away from the snow with each breath in a soft tempo. Luigi kept his eyes down, concentrating on just catching his breath, and let the bumpy texture cloud the pain.

Abruptly, it occurred to him that snow wasn't bumpy.

Luigi turned his head. A Piranha Plant with a frosty blue head lay with its massive chin on the snow beside Luigi. It jagged teeth were parted just enough to allow its white tongue through to lap contentedly at the scratches on Luigi's arm. It dragged the tip of its tongue luxuriously over Luigi's wounded skin like a cat licking lazily at its paws.

Luigi screamed in horror and threw himself back from the Piranha Plant. It grinned after him as it reared up its head.

"No! No, not this!" Luigi cried as he scrambled to his feet. "Not this!" He tried to take off across the snow.

But, he had only taken a few steps before a second blue Piranha Plant dropped in front of him. Before Luigi could react, the Piranha Plant pursed its white lips, and there was a faint whistling sound as Luigi was doused in a stream of icy wind.

Luigi gasped as the crystals coated his mustache and eyelids. He felt his blood retreat from his arms and legs and surge to his brain and torso. Never, never in his life had he felt cold like this. Never could he have imagined cold like this. He couldn't take a step. He couldn't lift his face. He couldn't even open his eyes. If any part of his body pulled away from the whole, it would freeze solid. The heat had retreated to his core, and his entire body was trying to retreat with it.

He felt a second breath blown at him from the side, and he sank to his knees, curling tightly around himself to keep in just a trace of his warmth. His teeth knocked into each other as he shuddered violently. The shaking was the only thing keeping his nerves awake as each jolt sent a ripple of pins and needles through his stiffened muscles. He no longer wanted to run. He no longer wanted to escape. He only wanted to be warm.

A vine crept onto his shoulder and slipped around his collarbone, and Luigi leaned into it, welcoming any touch that might keep in his warmth. The vine encircled his neck and pressed into his throat. Luigi, still unwilling to lift his arms, slid them up over his chest in order to clutch at the vine with his fingers. He managed to slip his fingers in against the skin of his neck before the vine could strangle him, but he was unable to resist when the vine pulled him backwards.

The forest spun over him. He felt the snow scraping his back beneath his cloak and heard the snap and snarl of the Piranha Plants above him. They rumbled and flashed their teeth at one another, bickering over the right to the tiny morsel beneath them. Luigi drew his knees up to his chest, convulsing in cold and terror. He didn't want to die. He wanted warmth. He wanted comfort. He wanted Mario.

 _Mario,_ he thought. Then, absurdly: _It's so lonely, Mario._

Finally, one of the Plants tore away from its fellows and dived for him. Luigi tensed as he took in the sight of the dribbling lips and parted teeth, knowing it would be the last thing he ever saw.

There was a blur of brass, and Luigi felt the forest floor rumble as something slammed the head of the Piranha Plant to the ground. Luigi lifted his head, an action that pulled the vine taut, and saw copper scales shimmering over thrashing muscles. The legs and neck of the Beast bulged and rippled as she tore into the flesh of the Piranha Plant with her teeth and claws. The Piranha Plant emitted an earsplitting screech, tossing wildly back and forth until the Beast was flung forward into the snow.

The Beast braced out her legs and slid into place beside Luigi. She whirled and slammed her armored tail to the ground directly on top of the outstretched vine. Luigi felt a sharp pressure on his throat which was quickly alleviated as the vine snapped under the force of the impact. The coil around his neck unspooled and fell over his shoulders as the Beast positioned herself over him. She lifted her face to the Plants above and unleashed a full-throated roar that made the hairs on Luigi's neck stand on end.

The Piranha Plants snarled angrily back at her, and vines shot toward her from the hollow all around. Luigi ducked his head down as the Beast twisted and hissed above him. Every vine that ensnared her, her leg, her neck, her tail, was quickly broken in two by her jaws and her strength. The Piranha Plants convulsed and shrieked in pain with every tear. Vines lashed at her back and face, but she kept her stance above Luigi, shielding from the blows.

She caught one of the flailing vines in her teeth and pulled until the fibers ripped. But, just as she spat it into the snow, another vine shot out and wrapped itself around her jaws, locking them together. She leaned her head down and tore away the vine with her claws, but that one moment of inattention was all one Piranha Plant needed to swoop down and clamp its teeth around her.

Luigi cried out and the Beast screamed in pain as the teeth pressed into her. The teeth along her back and shoulders scraped and chipped against her hard scales, but Luigi could see the teeth below sinking into the softer surface of her belly. The Piranha Plant grinned and lifted her away from Luigi, up into the air.

The Beast grit her teeth and arched her back against the top row of teeth. The Piranha Plant growled in irritation as its teeth were slowly parted. A misty plume of icy breath blew from within the Piranha Plant's mouth, and she shuddered, but there was just enough space between the teeth to allow her to tumble out onto the ground below. She fell into the snow and rose shakily to her feet.

The same Piranha Plant dived down to reclaim its prey. Luigi screamed. The Beast whirled, and the Piranha Plant's momentum was halted as she caught its jaws in her scaled hands. She maneuvered her hands until they were between the teeth and pried the jaws apart. The Piranha Plant bit down with all the strength it could muster, and Luigi could see the Beast's shoulders shaking, but the jaws didn't stop. She pressed one of her back feet into the Piranha Plant's lip and braced her armored neck against the top row of teeth. Her arms now free, she swung back, flexed her claws, and plunged the limb toward the roof of its mouth.

Luigi couldn't see what happened next, but he could hear it: a wet, pulpy tearing sound, soon drowned out by the Piranha Plant's bloodcurdling shriek. The Piranha Plant's stem whipped and thrashed on the ground and the head rocked back and forth in convulsions of agony before the mouth grew slack. Its stem slapped into the snow and shriveled, and its voice gurgled and dropped to silence as the Beast pulled herself up.

The Piranha Plants drew back as she emerged over top of the withered head. She roared at them again, and this time they retreated, drawing themselves back into the frozen ground beneath the snow. The hollow was still.

The Beast slowly turned to step down from the head, but her foot lost its purchase, and she was sent tumbling into the snow. She slowly picked herself up and looked to where Luigi sat curled and shivering. His lips and nose were blue, and he shrank back as she limped her way toward him. He recoiled violently as she reached him, and she could hear his whimpering behind his chattering teeth.

Her touch sent a spasm of fear down his spine, but instead of claws, he only felt the palm of her hand on his shoulders. He gave a small cry as she swept him forward and pressed him into the crook of her neck. She sank into the snow, drawing him down with her in such a way that only his shoes were touching the ground. Everything else was pressed into her.

Luigi's body had stiffened when he'd found himself in her embrace, but soon all resistance melted away. She was warm. He felt the warmth seeping into him from her neck and shoulders, permeating his belly and chest. Even the arm around his back shielded him from the cold. He was shivering harder than before, but instead of prickling pain, each ripple brought warm feeling back into his aching muscles. He pressed his face to her, eager to take in more of the warmth.

As his shivering subsided, he felt her arm drop from his shoulders. He looked down to where her head lay against him. She opened one blue eye and gazed back. Her expression was unreadable. The breath that whispered in and out of her nostrils was ragged.

The eye closed. In the black, she felt Luigi's warmth leave her side. She heard the crunch and whisper of his boots and cloak as he ran across the snow. When she opened her eye again, she was alone.

She wondered if the Piranha Plants would reappear. She decided it didn't matter. She would likely freeze before they got their courage back, anyway.

She wanted to cry. It was so unfair. Had she endured ninety-nine years of torment for it to end like this? Maybe this was what she deserved. She wasn't sure. She wanted to cry anyway. But, she didn't. It was too cold, and she was simply too tired.

 _Sorry, everyone,_ she thought. _I guess I couldn't break the curse after all._ She thought of his tear-filled eyes in the dungeon. She thought of his warmth against her neck. At least there was someone who'd gotten away.

She waited for it to be warm enough to sleep.

* * *

They all glanced up eagerly at the sound of the front door creaking open.

"Mistress!" Peach said anxiously. "Did you find-?"

But, the face that appeared in the doorway was not the one they expected.

"Luigi?" said Toadette in astonishment.

He was panting heavily as he threw himself into the foyer. "Help me! Please!" Luigi gasped. "She's hurt, and I can't carry her!"

* * *

At the edge of her consciousness, the Beast heard something huge and unwieldy cracking through the trees. The snow crinkled softly as a lumbering weight sank into it. She heard the slide and clack of wood. Her eyelids parted, and she saw the blurred outline of a man reaching out his hand to her.

* * *

 **AN:**

 _Alternate title for this chapter: "Luigi Bumps into Every Damn Thing."_

 _One of my favorite little bits about_ Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon _is that there's an apparently random chance that Luigi will just eat it when he goes through a door. Like, a full, sprawling, face-on-carpet type of pratfall. I love it._ Luigi's Mansion _is so full of little character touches like that. It makes me all giggly._

 _I truly envy people who use work as a coping mechanism. It seems like they'd get a lot done._

 _We have a grandfather clock in our house. We've owned that thing for as long as I can remember. It doesn't work anymore because it has exactly the problem in this chapter. We wind it up and after only a few hours, it stops. But, when my friends came over, they would react with absolute terror whenever they heard it ring. Apparently, grandfather clocks are scary to a lot of people. That's hilarious._

 _I've never watched the commentary for Disney's Beauty and the Beast, but apparently, on the commentary track, the filmmakers contemplate whether the Beast saving Belle from the wolves was meant to be a self-sacrificial act. Like, maybe he didn't actually expect her to bring him back._

 _The idea with the Piranha Plants is that they transform into their Frosty variant when it snows. I hope that came across!_

 _By the way, can you believe it's been a year since I started this fan fic? Golly gosh! My word!_

 _If you're a fan of_ Super Paper Mario, _you should check out the one-shot I wrote just a few weeks ago! It's called "So, Why Not?" It's about Nastasia! And Dimentio's there, too! You can access it from my profile, so give it a read if you're interested!_

 _Thanks for sticking with me for a whole year! Please review! Ciao!_


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